The Freedom to Refuse
by My Beautiful Ending
Summary: Part 1 of the A Way Through the Worlds trilogy. When a strange man with a blue box turns up in her family's maze, Lucy Cole can't foresee the changes he will bring to her life -as well as to her world. But can she save the world before it's too late? Can she save him? ...Should she even try? Master/Lucy.  The sequel is up!
1. 1: You came along

**AN: It's finally here! I'd like to thank so many people, but I'll stick to the basics -the three friends (you know who you are) who read this story and assured me it didn't stink, as well as betaing, YOU ROCK! And thanks to** Jonn Wolfe, Sara Eleanor Rose, and Zoe Alice Latimer**,**** for {though they don't know it (although I guess now they do)} giving me inspiration and courage to rewrite the heck out of Doctor Who. They are awesome writers, and if you don't know their stories, you should!**

**Disclaimer:**** I suppose it's flattering that anyone would ever assume this, but I don't own anything to do with Doctor Who except a couple of seasons on DVD. **

* * *

><p><strong>Part I of the Way through the Worlds Trilogy: <strong>

**The Freedom to Refuse**

**"You came along and my Heart went –pop–"**

Grabbing a book off of her bookshelf, the blond woman dodged out of the side door of her family's sprawling mansion to avoid the inevitable confrontation. She could still hear her sister Roxanne yelling at one of the servants, insisting that everything be perfect for her birthday celebration in just four hours. The woman rolled her eyes in disgust.

Walking barefoot through the gardens, she avoided the gardeners trimming the last bits off of the hedges and bushes. Her sister's twenty-sixth birthday and garden party was tonight, and she absolutely knew she would hate every second of it. Roxanne was a charmer and a flirt, beautiful and entertaining. She herself wasn't dull or plain, but when she stood next to Roxanne… she just looked washed out.

She pursed her mouth and walked through the rose garden toward the large fountain with a maze just beyond it. The garden was her escape, a remnant from her childhood days of hide and seek, tag, and playing pretend.

Plopping down on the rim of the fountain, she opened her book to the correct page. The fountain wasn't spraying, so there wasn't any danger of wetting the pages. She glanced into the still water and saw what most people would see: the reflection of Lord Cole's twenty-something year old second daughter, Lucille Penelope Cole, with long blond hair, grey eyes, and a wry smile.

The noise of her sister's shouting penetrated the afternoon breeze; someone must have opened a window. Lucy winced, attempting to bury herself in her book. But something was making a really odd noise. She looked up. It was a sort of a whirr…no, more like _vwhorp_. What appliance did the house have that sounded like that?

Lucy frowned. It wasn't coming from the house. It was coming from the maze. She dog-eared her book to save her spot and walked the familiar path through the maze to the center. Perhaps one of the gardeners was using some sort of yard tool to clear the maze? But she was sure one of them had done that _yesterday…_

Lucy arrived at the center of the maze, stopped, and stared. What on earth was a blue box –no, a blue _police_ box –doing at the center of the maze? It certainly had not been here last week. She knew her father collected the oddest things, but they weren't nearly this large, and he didn't put them _outside,_ for heaven's sake –

Lucy gasped as something she couldn't see groaned. The bench at the center of the maze, combined with the box, had blocked her view. Hesitantly coming around, she could see that the box had _doors,_ they were open, and there was a man lying on his stomach on the ground.

"Oh, no," she muttered, kneeling down. "Can you hear me?" she asked. Never mind the box, where had _he_ come from? And what was he doing in clothes that looked like throwbacks to the Victorian era? She grabbed his shoulder and rolled him over, belatedly thinking that if he was injured that might not be very good for him. He groaned.

Lucy stared down at his face, which was scrunched up in pain. He was young; she couldn't say how young because guessing ages was something she had never been good at. His hair was brown, and he had the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. "Hey!" she said.

He groaned again. "Mmm… where am I?" he said as his eyes snapped open and captured her gaze.

"You're in my maze," Lucy said, rather incredulously. "How did you _get_ here?"

He ignored her. "Be more specific," he snapped.

_He sounds fine to me. _Lucy sat back on her heels and dusted her hands off. "The Cole Manor, near London, the British Isles, the European continent, the Earth," she said sarcastically. "Shall I continue?"

He frowned and attempted to sit up. "This is _Earth?_" he asked, in a horrified tone.

"I hope so." Lucy stared at him in odd fascination. "Who _are_ you?"

"The Doctor fused the coordinates; I'll have to take apart the whole TARDIS to fix the circuitry," the man said, and then cursed.

Lucy flinched. "What are you talking about?" She was slightly worried that she had an insane person who appeared out of thin air on her hands. And on her sister's birthday… _Roxanne will _not _be happy about this,_ Lucy thought. She wasn't sure whether that was a bad thing or a good thing.

He actually seemed to see her for the first time. "You're human."

"Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing," she said dryly. "Would you mind telling me your name, and explaining?" she gestured toward the blue box.

"My name is the Master," he said, and then he said, "Oh, I like the way that sounds. Just the right timbre for a new voice. At least _that _came out right."

"What?" Lucy said, pretty sure she must have heard him wrong.

"You wouldn't understand; your brain is too small. That's your race's problem, too stupid. Not enough brains to fill a teaspoon –" he gasped and curled into a ball, grimacing.

"What's the matter?" Lucy asked, tensing.

"It's going wrong. Did he do this, too? I'm going to really make him pay for that, just as soon as I stop –" he suddenly gasped and then went limp.

She stared at him for a second, and then tried to discern whether he had died or not. She decided that he hadn't, since his chest was rising and falling, and he had a pulse…a really weird, rapid pulse. "What do I _do_ with you?" she asked, but got no response since he was unconscious. Glancing over at the open doors of the blue box, she actually _looked_ for the first time, and did a double take. Getting to her feet she stood in the doorway of a massive room full of dim orange lights and machinery. "But that's not possible," she whispered. "This box is only a few feet around!" To prove it to herself, she walked around it. Then, with her hand held out in front of her, she took three large steps into the box. She didn't hit anything. Lucy backed out again with her grey eyes wide, and knelt down beside the man. "Who _are_ you?" she whispered, letting the tips of her fingers just graze the side of his face.

Thinking, she stared down at him and ran a hand through her blond hair. There was no way she could let Roxanne know. Either she would throw another screaming fit, or she'd steal him. Honestly, the reason Lucy didn't date anymore was because Roxanne thought it great fun to steal her boyfriends. That, or men wanted to date Lucy to get closer to Roxanne or to make Roxanne jealous after having been dumped by her.

She was just so _sick _of it.

This man was a mystery, and his box… she wanted answers. Besides… keeping secrets from Roxanne was something she was _very_ good at by now.

Shutting the doors of the blue box carefully, she nodded once and then hurried through the maze. She couldn't carry him by herself.

* * *

><p>"Thank you, Joe," she said, smiling at the old man who had taught her the names of all the flowers in the garden.<p>

He laid the unconscious man on her bed and frowned at her. "I don't know where he came from, Miss Lucy, and if you ask me…"

"It's fine," she said. "I told you, he's a friend who's a little under the weather. Don't worry about it. And don't breathe a word to anyone."

"Why would I?" he asked, adjusting his cap. She knew he didn't believe her, but that was all right. He believed things that weren't his business weren't his problem, and let things well enough alone. "Better get back to work, or 'her highness' will be up in arms."  
>Lucy grinned at the name for her sister. "Yes, and goodness knows we wouldn't want <em>that.<em>" They shared a conspiratorial grin. "Oh, and Joe?" Lucy said, as he was about to leave. "Try to keep people out of the maze," she added.

He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and left.

Lucy turned her gaze to the man on her bed and crossed her arms over her chest as she thought, biting her lip. She crossed the room and placed a hand on his forehead. It was warm; not feverish, but it had the possibility of becoming so. She undid the string tie and a few buttons on his vest and shirt, which were of very nice material. Pulling off his shoes, she tucked her coverlet around him and bit her lip again. She had an unconscious, possibly ill man in her room that came out of a box with much more space inside it than there should be –if he got sick, how would she even treat him?

His eyelids twitched, like he was dreaming, and he mumbled something unintelligible to her. "Hey," she said softly, smoothing back his hair, "can you hear me? Are you alright?"

He breathed in very suddenly and exhaled a cloud of gold smoke. Lucy got a face full of it; she coughed, and her eyes watered and stung. She rubbed them –for an instant, her right eye felt like it was burning –but it passed, and she watched the rest of the golden cloud dissipate into the air. "What are you?" she whispered.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think! {I may not be able to get back to you right away because I'll be traveling C:}<strong>


	2. 2: My heart began to pound

**"You looked at me, my heart began to pound"  
><strong>

Lucy rubbed the towel over her hair, which was still damp after her shower. She glanced at the man on her bed to make sure he was still asleep before she grabbed her green evening dress off its hanger to get ready for the party. She had run his disjointed, confusing statements through her head during her shower, and she decided that she had heard him right –he did actually say 'the Master.' "That doesn't make sense," she mumbled to herself as she slipped into the dress. "Master of what? Is it a name, or a title?"

She eyed the object of her confusion, which still slept on. What was she going to do if she couldn't wake him? And she _had_ to go to the party… her father was expecting her to be there, and she would come for him. He had no knowledge of her lifelong feud with her sister. She often wondered how blind that meant he was, but always shook that thought away before it went any deeper.

She zipped up her dress and checked the time. She still had thirty minutes before guests would begin to arrive. She did her makeup before curling and styling her blond hair in an updo. Just because it was Roxanne's birthday didn't mean _she_ had to look dowdy. Lucy knew Roxanne would be irked, but she could get over herself. Heels went on; earrings, a necklace, and bracelet were clasped, and a ring slid on her finger. Lucy smiled at her reflection. She didn't dress up every day, but when she did, she liked doing it. So what if she was only the passably pretty second daughter.

Grabbing a notepad, she wrote, "Food is under the covered tray, medicine in the second cabinet to the right in the bathroom. Here is the key to my room in case you need out. I will be back by midnight to see if you are OK." She signed the note 'Lucy', even though he didn't know her name. She put it by her bed and placed the key on top of it. She didn't know what else to do.

"LUCY!" Roxanne yelled from outside her room. "More time in front of the mirror isn't going to make you any prettier; come on!"

This was the reason Lucy locked her door. She made sure her spare key was in her clutch purse. "I'm coming, Roxanne." _It would really be poetical justice if she lost her voice from all the yelling she does,_ Lucy thought darkly. She sprayed some perfume on, and, with a last concerned glance toward the mystery man, she left the room, making sure to turn the knob of her bedroom door as she shut it.

If things are sprayed in a room, like an aerosol air freshener, or, say, perfume, they diffuse throughout the entire space within a few minutes. The perfume Lucy sprayed traveled across the room to the bed where her mystery man lay. The scent of her perfume tickled his olfactory epithelium, which in turn sent a message to his brain about his environment.

He opened his eyes.

* * *

><p>Lucy smiled politely at her sister's friends and pointedly ignored the men attempting to attach themselves to her. Brushing a stray hair out of her eyes, she resolved not to frown, or glare, or anything. It was tempting, though. In her red strapless dress, Roxanne attracted men like pollen attracts bees, and for much the same reason. Her father walked over to her and asked, "Lucy, why don't you dance with one of these young chaps? The orchestra has finished warming up," he pointed out. The orchestra was playing classical music to go along with the mood lighting. The sky was slipping from grey dusk to dark night, and lights were strung all across the garden, giving it the appeal of a fairyland.<p>

"I just don't feel like dancing now, Dad," she said, smiling ruefully.

"I know Henry there would jump at the chance," her father prodded. He grinned at her conspiratorially as the lights made his bald spot glow. Her father was a tall and imposing man, but rather a creampuff pushover inside, as Lucy and Roxanne knew full well.

Lucy half-smiled. "I'll keep it in mind," she assured him. "How did the caterers do?" she asked, glancing at the loaded buffet tables to distract him.

"Absolutely fabulous, and the orchestra as well," her father praised. "We'll have them back for your birthday."

"I don't like big parties, dad," Lucy reminded her father, hiding a clenched fist behind her back. "Or classical music."

"I'm sure they know other songs. But fine, my birthday," her father said. "Excuse me; I'm going to greet Mr. and Mrs. Richardson." He strode off to speak to the couple.

Waving away a waiter bearing a champagne tray, Lucy retreated to the background of the party, chatting politely with family friends and staying away from her sister and company.

* * *

><p>The Master opened his eyes and winced. What was that? Floral…roses and jasmine most prevalently, oh d&amp;^, his nose was going into overload… possibly vanilla with a musky smell…? He sat up and sneezed.<p>

"Chanel number five," he concluded, and then took a look around the room and observed he was alone. Let's see, he had just stolen the TARDIS from the Doctor –he grinned –and then he went backwards in time, but the Doctor had fused the TARDIS coordinates so he had landed–

Oh, hell, he was on Earth.

Wait, he already knew that. That girl told him. The blond one. This was probably her room.

The Master tossed the coverlet off of him and glanced at the note on the bedside table, quickly reading it. Taking the key, he left the note where it was. The girl's name was Lucy, apparently. As he passed a mirror, he paused, taking time to soak in his new look. He made faces in the mirror, much to his delight. He liked this young face. He looked handsome, and his smile was brilliant. The hair was a bit short, but hair could grow. He sneered at his clothes and wondered where his fashion sense had gone as a human. However, until he could raid the TARDIS wardrobe, it would have to do. He buttoned the shirt and vest, and retied the string tie. Glancing out the nearby window, he had a good view of the garden and the party that was going on.

"I suppose I'll pass at a fancy dress party," he murmured. He liked the sound of his voice.

* * *

><p>He remembered that human saying he had been in 'her maze.' Big gardens like this one had mazes, so all he had to do was get there and find the TARDIS. <em>Without<em> dealing with pesky humans, preferably. He suspected that this new regeneration might be good at charisma, but he didn't want to find out just yet. He already felt the weariness that meant he still needed to recover from his regeneration. He stayed to the shadows, watching the humans mince around in their long colorful dresses and tuxedos, and scanning the gardens for the maze.

His eyes –which were brown, by the way, and very keen; he liked them a lot –followed the movements of the servants as they carried food and drink around to the party guests, mapping out their routes and making sure to avoid the ones they went to repeatedly. Since his ears were very new, they picked up every bit of loud conversation, and his eyes followed the sound. So he had not quite finished scanning a group of fat cats when loud, ringing laughter filled the air. His eyes glanced over to the group of younger humans, moved on –and then the Master did a double take.

His keen eyes snapped back to the group and fixed on a blond woman in a dark green dress that hugged every curve available. She stood apart from the group, looking behind her as if searching for an escape route. _No,_ he thought to himself doubtfully. That was never the blond that he had seen earlier. This one was undeniably gorgeous, while the other was just adequately pretty. But then she turned her head back and he knew that it was.

The Master realized something else: this version of him was a ladies' man.

* * *

><p>"Lucy, would you like to come take a stroll with me?" Henry asked, holding out his arm hopefully.<p>

Lucy smiled reservedly at him. She could see her sister tittering with a few of her female cronies. She couldn't hear them, but she had seen the words so much on her sister's lips that she knew instantly what had been said. "Lucy's _terribly_ shy, poor thing…"

_Only when I want to be,_ Lucy said to herself, and smiled widely at Henry, though it felt more like a bareing of teeth to her. "I would, thank you," she said, slipping her arm into his. She was doing something she said she wouldn't, but she didn't care right this minute. She was proving her sister wrong.

He led her around the garden and they made small talk about meaningless topics for a few minutes until she decided that was all she could stand. "Henry, why did you ask me to walk with you?" Lucy asked.

"Could I speak to you in private?" he asked.

Lucy blinked. "Won't this do?" Was he about to reveal the codes to nuclear missiles, or something?

"What's this?" he asked, pointing at the tall hedge behind him.

"Oh… that's our maze," Lucy said reluctantly.

"Perfect." He started into the maze.

Lucy stared at him before saying, "Not that way! Turn left!" _I can't let him wander around in there… he'll get himself impossibly lost or he'll find that police box! Just… hear what he has to say and lead him out again,_ she told herself, starting after him.

* * *

><p><em>Found: one maze,<em> the Master thought smugly to himself, following the lithe form in green into the maze. From a safe distance, of course.

Of course, safe distances meant no eavesdropping.

Forget safe distances.

He stayed a turn behind the two of them; just close enough to hear their conversation.

"Henry. Tell me what you need to tell me," Lucy said. Her tone hid a tinge of irritation and exasperation under the surface of her words.

"I don't want anyone to hear," the man said.

"The orchestra is playing, and we also have several hedges between us and any unsuspecting ears," Lucy rationalized.

"I just want to make sure –what is that?"

The Master stopped walking.

"Oh –you know Dad has a fondness for oddities. It's an old-timey police box…I think he stuck it in here as a joke," Lucy said. Not many would be able to tell her laughter was forced.

_Why isn't she telling?_ The Master wondered thoughtfully.

"What did you want to say?" Lucy asked again.

"I was wondering if…you wanted to go on a date with me," Henry said in a rush.

"Really? I thought you were about to disclose that you had the cure for cancer or something," Lucy said tartly. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble. My answer is no."

"Lucy –please. Let me explain…"

"There isn't anything to explain, Henry," Lucy said. "You dated Roxanne for two weeks, and then she dumped you."

"I realized that she's just a vain brat. I opened my eyes and I saw you, Lucy!"

The Master winced. Really, was this all that human males could come up with these days?

"You might have," Lucy conceded, "but it's not likely. My answer is still no."

"Why?" the man actually sounded angry for the first time.

The Master thought, _no wonder the human race has gone to pot if these are the male specimens they produce._ He would have become boiling mad the instant she had dared say no. _They would be so easy to take over. And if I _am_ stuck here…_ he thought of the time it would take to dismantle the TARDIS and put it back together to fix the fusion, and shuddered. _That's it, then. I'll take over the human race, and _then _I will fix the TARDIS and conquer everything else. That will show the Doctor just how stupid his precious humans are._ He smiled his new grin, liking the plan.

"Because I am _not_ a means to an end," Lucy snapped. "I am _not_ a consolation prize. And I _do not_ take my sister's castoffs. And now I am going back to the party. I would advise following."

"What? Why –"

"I_ think_ I know the way back through my own maze," Lucy said testily.

"Lucy –" he said loudly.

"Take your hand off my arm," she commanded.

The Master supposed this was his cue. He rounded the corner of the hedge with a spring in his step, acting like he owned the world… or was about to. They both turned to look at him, and he smiled, turning on his newfound charm.

"Hello, Lucy darling. I've been looking for you everywhere."

* * *

><p>Lucy honestly could not get her tongue to work as her mystery man, 'the Master', strode into the center of the maze. His brown eyes snapped with energy, and he moved effortlessly straight towards her. Not an hour ago he was unconscious; now he fairly crackled with energy. <em>How is that possible?<em>

Their eyes locked as he smiled, and he grabbed her hand and kissed it. Tingles ran through her entire body.

"Who're you?" Henry demanded.

He turned his gaze on him, and Lucy could _feel _Henry shrink back. A beat of silence went by, until he said, "Harold Saxon."

"Never heard of you," Henry said, displeased.

"You will," he assured him, placing a hand on the small of Lucy's back. "Shall we go?" he asked.

She was still working on the speaking bit, so she just nodded. He led her back through the maze, and Lucy couldn't stop staring at him until he started to turn the wrong way. "It's left," she corrected him. And with that, she couldn't stop talking. "Your name's not Harold Saxon," she said.

"No, it's not." His voice was low and warm.  
>"What is it?"<p>

"I told you; my name is the Master," he said, and another set of tingles ran through her body.

"The Master of what?" she asked, smiling in spite of herself.

"Everything," he replied.

"You were unconscious an hour ago," she whispered. "Should you be out of bed at all?"

"Human sickness norms don't apply to me," he mumbled.

"Where did you come from?"

"From your room, I presume," he said.

"No, I mean –" but Lucy got cut off as they emerged into the party scene again.

"Later," he murmured in her ear.

Lucy saw Roxanne follow one of her cronies' pointing fingers and lock onto her target. "Lucy…" her sister trilled, floating over with her throng of followers trailing behind. "Who is this?" Her dark eyes snapped onto the Master, and Lucy felt her stomach turn to lead and sink. It was happening again; she _hated _Roxanne; whywas her sister the magnetic north for men?

His hand slid from the small of her back around to her waist, pulling her to his side. "Harold Saxon."

"Really?" Roxanne asked, her smile not quite reaching her glittering eyes. "How interesting. Pleased to meet you. I'm Roxanne…it's my birthday today."  
>"Yes, I know," the Master said. "Lucy was telling me all about you." Mirth glinted in his eyes at the lie. Lucy had a very good view from such close proximity. Not that she was protesting.<p>

"Oh, really? And…where did you two meet?" Roxanne inquired with a full-lipped smile that was intended to bring the boys running.

"At my job," Lucy put in helpfully, moving the fiction along. "He's…thinking about getting a book published."

"Ohhh…" Roxanne said, and her eyes lit up. "So this book, Harold –"

"He goes by Harry, actually," Lucy broke in, to avoid any tricky questions about a nonexistent book that a nonexistent person was trying to get published where she worked. And she wanted keep Roxanne off guard, as well.

"Yep," the Master agreed carelessly. "Pleased to meet you; happy birthday, ta." He turned to Lucy, still against his side. "Would you care to dance?" he asked, directing a charming smile towards her.

"I'd love to," Lucy said, pulling back her lips in a barely contained smile of triumph. He pulled her into the throng of other couples and held her close, and they danced. "How did you do that?" Lucy asked. "That's the first time anyone has ever resisted my sister."

"And my estimation of human males just sunk lower. I didn't think that was possible," he murmured disgustedly.

Lucy stared at him. "You keep saying that like you aren't human."

"I'm not," he said, smiling at her.

With heels on, they were the same height, so she could look right into his eyes. "I can't tell if you're kidding or not," she said.

"I'm not." His eyes were absolutely level and not at all lying.

"Okay…" a smile tugged at her mouth because of the absurdity of it all. "I suppose since you have a police box that defies physics, that makes sense… sort of." Her eyebrows quirked as she tilted her head to the side. "So… what are you?" she whispered, intrigued.

"I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, and that box is called a TARDIS," The Master said, spinning her out and pulling her back into his arms again.

"Tardis?" she repeated.

"Time and Relative Dimensions in Space," he said. "And what sort of awful music is this?" he asked, looking at the orchestra.

Lucy wondered if she had mental whiplash from the rapid leap in conversational topics. "Um…it's classical music. Roxanne likes it. She thinks it makes her smarter," she laughed. "I don't like it much."

"It's horrible," the Master said, making a face, and Lucy had the urge to giggle. "What other music do you have?"

"Rock, hip hop, techno…" Lucy shrugged.

"Why's that different from this?" he asked.

"It…has electric guitars, auto tone, a drum beat –"

"A drum beat?" The Master repeated. "Drum beat…a drum beat…" His gaze became very distant, and Lucy became aware of one of his fingers tapping out a rhythm on her shoulder. Suddenly he gasped and gritted his teeth, doubling over.

Lucy instinctively wrapped an arm around him to support him. "What's wrong?" she asked, worried.

"I'm still regenerating," he growled. She helped him to the edge of the garden without attracting attention by pretending he had had one champagne glass too many. "I need…. I need to go back to sleep and let my body rebuild itself…" he said, before exhaling another golden cloud of sparks. Lucy's right eye itched like mad for a second, but she couldn't rub it; she was supporting him. But then the urge went away and she forgot.

"Okay, let me help you," she said, putting his arm over her shoulders. "Come on." She helped him into the mansion.

* * *

><p>After the party had ended in the early hours of the morning, Lucy quietly entered her room. Yes, the Master was still asleep. She smiled softly. After taking him back to her room, she had had to return, but now it was over. However, she didn't have a bed.<p>

She would cross that bridge when she came to it, she decided, grabbing her pajamas and going to change in her bathroom. When she came out, her hair was down, her makeup was gone, and she was dressed in comfortable sleep clothes. "I think the clock struck midnight," she whispered to herself. Taking a blanket from her closet, she curled up in her window seat, facing inward, watching him sleep.


	3. Your bewitching lies

**"Your cold grey eyes, your simple smile, and your bewitching lies"**

The sun warmed Lucy's back as she lay curled up in her window seat. Drowsily blinking, she ran a hand through her hair and tried to function. Swinging her legs over onto the floor, she anxiously glanced at the still figure in her bed, but there didn't seem to be any discernable change in him. She rubbed her eyes and cracked her neck, waking up. Lucy liked mornings; they were Roxanne-free moments in time. Padding out of her room after dressing, she walked the silent halls full of sleeping people down to the kitchen and made her self a cup of coffee, a beverage she had found very helpful for getting her awake in college. She wondered, as she sipped the coffee, why the Master (she still wasn't sure about that name) had woken up before. She found it useless to speculate about him, though –anything she came up with was bound to be wrong. Unless he wasn't an alien and just generally crazy; however, he didn't strike her as that kind of person. He was… she couldn't think of a fitting description. She carried her coffee back to her room to go check on him again.

* * *

><p>The pungent aroma and steam of coffee hit his olfactory epithelium, and the smell of vanilla and blackberries tickled his nose. No, literally, it tickled his nose. He opened his eyes and sat up, making the person who had been bending over him jump back hastily. He identified the tickling and the vanilla and blackberry scent to be from the girl's hair, and the coffee scent to be from the cup in her hand. Ah, there was nothing like a strong smell to kick his endorphins into working properly again. His new body fairly buzzed, completely new and rebuilt. And hungry.<p>

He inhaled strongly again, and said, "Coffee. Now."

Lucy raised a skeptical and mystified eyebrow at him and said, "You could ask nicely, you know."

He gestured impatiently for the cup.

"No, this is _mine_," she said, and continued on before he could be shocked at her resistance. "Come down to the kitchen and I'll make you your own cup, and breakfast. When did you last eat?"

"A body ago," he said.

"Because you're an alien," she said. "Please tell me you aren't a body snatcher or something."

He rolled his eyes at the obtuseness of the human species. "Time Lord. No such thing as a body snatcher."

"Fine. What do Time Lords eat?"

"Not sure yet. New taste buds. I need to experiment," he said, standing up and running his hands through his hair. He felt her watching him, and smirked as he pulled the string tie off and tossed it away.

"Then how do you know if you like coffee?"

He blinked. "I don't."

"Glad I didn't give you my cup," she mumbled. "Well, come on then," she said, leaving her room, letting him follow her. He glanced appreciatively at the back of her as they left the room. Yep, ladies' man.

* * *

><p>Lucy munched on toast and felt a stab of pity for the cook who would come in later in the day. The kitchen was rather disheveled. Cartons of milk, orange juice, and eggs sat out on the counter, half eaten pancakes stood on a plate absolutely soaked in syrup, and the smell of bacon and sausage filled the room. "Well?' she asked, waiting for the verdict.<p>

The Master stood at the stove with his sleeves rolled back to his elbows, chewing on a slice of bacon. "I like bacon," he finally concluded.

"You know, you don't have to like things to eat them," Lucy pointed out, something her mother had always tried to instill in her, with varying success.

The Master gave her a withering look. "Why in the name of Rassilon would I eat something I didn't like?"

"Because it's good for you?" Lucy asked, not really expecting that to work.

She was right. He rolled his eyes and began rummaging around in her pantry. "Hey," she said. "Remember what I said earlier about asking nicely, Time Lord?"

"Yes. I disregarded it." He dug out a bag of jelly babies and tried one. He grinned. "Ohhh, I like this. What are these?"

"Jelly babies," Lucy said.

"They're sweet!" He chewed delightedly.

"Interesting. Sweet tooth for jelly babies, but no taste for syrup," Lucy mused, finishing her coffee and sticking the cup in the sink. He liked coffee as well; he had theorized that it might be due to smelling it very early on.

She stole a jelly baby from the bag.

"Hey!" he said.

"They're mine, remember?" Lucy said, smiling.

His brown eyes locked with hers as he smiled. "Oh, I remember," he said.

"And still disregarding," She pointed out wryly, trying vainly not to blush.

"What's a sweet tooth?" he asked suddenly.

"You like sweet things," Lucy shrugged, not knowing how to explain it. "It's a saying."

The Master raised an eyebrow. "Sweet things," he murmured. "Shall we test that theory?"

Lucy frowned. "Haven't you just been –mmhhmm…"

His lips had found hers, and suddenly her brain decided to stop working. Her first instinct was to pull away, but that wasn't computing –all her hands could do was flutter ineffectually on his shoulders. His lips were warm and soft, and their caress was long enough to make her melt against him. His lips eventually left hers –that was good and bad, because she needed to breathe, but she didn't want it to stop –to make their way down her neck. Lucy could feel her pulse in her ears, and her hands, which had settled around his neck, could feel his as well –but it was so _strange_.

"Why –why is your, um, your heartbeat so…funny?" she asked, trying to talk while his lips on her skin distracted her.

"Two hearts," he murmured against her neck.

_Alien, Time Lord, two hearts –well, that makes sense,_ she thought. _Sort of._

He pulled away from her neck, finally, and his eyes were full of mirth as he whispered, "Well, I think that experiment was a success. You certainly taste sweet." His eyebrows lifted as he smirked. "And I liked it."

_I liked it too. _She stared at him, wondering why she felt so…so… like she needed to kiss him again_. _Why did she need to kiss a man she had only met a day a go? She had no clue, except that it was fabulous. Lucy thought, _oh well, all experiments should be performed at least twice._ So she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, molding her body to his. He didn't seem to mind in the least. Kissing back passionately, he ran a hand through her hair and wrapped an arm around her waist. There was a pleasant humming in her veins, and Lucy decided that this might actually be the most brilliant thing she'd ever felt before.

Until she heard the creak of the door and a voice say, "See Dad? I told you she had a man over."

Lucy jumped and pulled away, staring in disbelief at the smirking face in the doorway.

_Roxanne._

* * *

><p><em>New mouth,<em> the Master reminded himself. This was bloody amazing. He growled in the back of his throat as his new senses, hands, mouth, nose (which was very important to tasting, thank you very much), and oh, _everything_ reveled in this totally new experience. "Liking it" would be an understatement. So needless to say that when he got interrupted, he was annoyed.

"See Dad? I told you she had a man over," the shrieking harpy of a sister said smugly.

"Lucy!" an older man with a bald spot said in a shocked voice.

"It's not –we didn't –he's …_ohh_, it's not even_ like _that and even if it was, don't act like_ I'm_ the scandalous one, Roxanne!" Lucy yelled angrily. "I can list off the boys you've had over without even trying!"

The sister clearly was not expecting resistance. The Master cast away his previous plan and decided to sit back and watch Lucy. "You would _never_ –" Roxanne said dangerously.

"Oh _really_?" Lucy asked, rising to the challenge and glaring. "Arthur Faulk, Sam Hitchings, Robert Adams, Mitchell Travers, Patrick Dawson, Tyler Garrison, Matt Brown –"

"Lucy, you beastly sneak! Cut line!" Roxanne shrieked in horror.

Lucy continued on without stopping, " –Ted Andrews, Marty Zimmerman, Lance Jenkins, Ozzie Benson, Cullen Hastings, Henry Van Buren…" she took a breath for the first time in her tirade, "shall I go on?" she asked venomously, her grey eyes cold.

Her father's incredulous gaze snapped from the blond daughter to the brunette. "Roxanne, is this true?"

The Master tilted his head to the side and laughed as a sleepy man without a shirt on walked into the room. "Morning," he said, rubbing his head blearily and gazing at the present company.

"Tony!" Roxanne hissed, mortified.

"Roxanne," her father said warningly, "get him out of here."

The brunette pushed the shirtless man out of the room in a rage, heedless of his protests. The tall man with a bald spot turned his attention back towards the two of them. The Master decided to see if his charm was more like charisma than attraction. "Hello, Sir," he said, holding out his hand. "My name is Harold Saxon, and _I assure you_ that I made no designs upon your daughter. She was merely helping me when I fell a bit under the weather."

Lucy's father took his hand, a bit hesitantly. "Didn't I see you at Roxanne's party?" he asked.

"Yes, Lucy was kind enough to invite me along. Apparently I caught some sort of… 24 hour bug, and she put me up for the night, but I'm right as rain now," the Master said, flashing another grin. "Very grateful for the hospitality. Thanks very much!"

"You're welcome," her father said, a bit confused. "Where…um, where did you meet?"

"Harry was thinking about publishing a book," Lucy put in. "I met him at work. Actually, we were just on the way out."

"Oh. Well then, good. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Saxon…" her father said.

"Likewise," The Master said, before Lucy pulled him out of the room.

"What was Roxanne doing up that early?" Lucy muttered, mostly to herself, adding, "I can't believe I actually _did_ that."

"Why?" the Master asked, steering them outside.

Lucy blinked up at him, now two inches shorter without shoes. "She's going to get me for it later."

He stared at her in utter incomprehension. "You sound like two children squabbling."

* * *

><p>Lucy felt like she had swallowed a stone. How did this man know exactly what to say to exactly describe her relationship with her sister? Whatever Roxanne did, Lucy did not. Whatever Roxanne liked, Lucy did not. Wherever Roxanne went, Lucy did not. She refused to be left in her sister's shadow, but the only way she knew how to do that was to be everything that her sister was not.<p>

"Anyway, I think you should do it more often. To hell with consequences," the Master said.

"Really?" Lucy asked, smiling.

"You were marvelous," he said, grinning at her. She didn't have time to process that statement before he decided to break into a frenzied run and pull her along behind him.

"Where are we going?" she yelled. She was barefoot and trying to avoid any sharp paving stones.

"To the TARDIS," he exclaimed, "I'm tired of looking like a mad professor!"

She let him pull her along until they reached the maze, and then she led him through the hedges until they reached the center where the box still stood, like a blue sentinel. The Master shoved the door open and stepped into the impossible space inside the box. Running up the ramp, he disappeared through an entryway.  
>"Where're you going?" Lucy called after him, stepping hesitantly inside.<p>

"To find the wardrobe room!" he said.

"You mean you don't know where it is?" Lucy asked, confused, but there was no reply. She took a large steadying breath and walked up the metal walkway to the center console, hesitantly brushing the odd knobs and levers sticking out from the rounded center. She wondered if it was just her imagination, or if the lights seemed to brighten the slightest bit from the dim gloom they were in. A slight whirring sound came from the machine/box/TARDIS and for a second, it felt like there was something in her eye. Lucy rubbed it absently, her fingers tracing the words 'Bad Wolf' scribbled on the wooden handle of a lever. The fingers left the lever to trace her lips and relive that kiss. Two kisses, actually.

Did she really _believe _the Master? All that about him being a Time Lord, and from some planet, and growing himself a new body, or whatever? If she tried to tell anyone else, she would sound completely bonkers! But there was this TARDIS… and there was _him_. _Two hearts, _she reminded herself, _and he doesn't need to breathe while kissing, apparently_. He was utterly unlike any man she had ever met before in her life.

And after living with Roxanne for years, Lucy had met a lot of men.

The grating behind her creaked, and she turned to see him come back through the archway –still wearing black and white, but in a dress shirt and pants that made him seem a little more suited to the twenty-first century. He was buttoning his cuffs, but the shirttail was un-tucked, and she thought it gave him a strangely casual, rakish look. "The ship turned me around. That's the trouble with stealing a sentient ship. She objects." He sneered.

"Sentient?" Lucy asked, hastily taking a step back. "It's alive?"

"Sort of," The Master said.

Lucy looked at him, both fascinated and exasperated. "Could you start from the beginning?" she asked.

"What?" he asked.

"You tell me all these things… these strange, crazy, wonderful things, but they don't make sense by themselves. Could you just… tell me?"

He tilted his head to the side, staring contemplatively at her. She could practically see the wheels turning, but to what end, she wasn't sure. "Tell you what?" he asked.

"All of it –everything," Lucy said in a rush.

And so…he did.

* * *

><p>She sat on the floor of the TARDIS, processing all of the information that had been thrown at her. It seemed like fairy stories to her –flying around time and space, aliens, Time Lords –but it was so real to him. She could see that. He had almost forgot she was here; he had been so caught up in the telling of it. He was still lost in memory, sitting beside her on the grillwork of the TARDIS.<p>

And really –they weren't so different. She had a sister who she refused to be like in the slightest bit. He had a –nemesis? Enemy? Old friend? –called the Doctor that he always compared himself to. It would have been funny, two archenemies locked in a perpetual duel throughout time and space, if it wasn't so real, wasn't so personal to her.

Lucy became aware of a tapping nose –four little beats –rapped out by the Master's finger on the floor. Gradually, they got louder and louder until he was practically slamming his hand into the floor.

"Hey!" Lucy said, grabbing the hand. He jumped, startled. She wrapped her hands around his, saying, "What's wrong?"

"There's this drumming, inside my head," he hissed venomously. "This never-ending drumming. It never stops. Never ever. Not even for a second."

Lucy asked, concerned, "When did it start?"

"It's always been there," he said, "ever since I was eight."

"And you looked into the um… the whirlpool of time thing," Lucy said. She wasn't very good at saying "untempered schism."

"Yes." There went his other hand again, tapping away. Tap tap tap _tap,_ tap tap tap _tap._ Lucy, having taken some piano in high school, rather thought it sounded like a triplet followed by a quarter note: tri-pa-let _one_, tri-pa-let_ one_, tri-pa-let_ one._

She grabbed the other hand in his. "You don't have to do that," she said softly. "I heard it the first time."

He laughed, but there was no mirth in it. "Soon, everyone on earth will be hearing it," he said. His intense brown gaze caught hers and held it. "I'm going to set up this program, see," he said. "A communications thing, but it's actually going to be a telepathic field to –oh, why am I telling you?" he asked. "You wouldn't understand."

"Hey!" Lucy protested. "I understood about your story, the Doctor, the drums… I understand a lot more than you think."

His gaze turned speculative. "True," he said, brushing her hair off her shoulders, letting his fingers linger. "For a human."

She smiled.

"Marry me."

She stared. Had she heard him right? "What?"

"I'm going to take over this world, and I want you by my side," The Master said. "Marry me."

"I –" Lucy was having trouble talking. The whole "taking over the world" bit didn't even register. "I just met you a day ago! Not even that, really." Though it seemed like forever ago. "That's just –just crazy! No, I can't marry you!" Though it was a tempting thought. _It's not the way you do things, _she told herself. _You don't just up and marry some bloke because he waltzes into your life and tells you amazing things and looks good enough to eat and makes you feel like the only girl in the world… I just can't _do _that…_

His eyes narrowed and got much, much darker, and Lucy had a sneaking suspicion she had said the wrong thing. But then, instantly, his expression changed. "What would make you change your mind?"

She shifted uncomfortably, thinking _I don't know… maybe if you kissed me again, or… ugh, I don't know! _ "Something pretty spectacular," she said instead.

"Lucy… how would you like to see the end of the universe?"

"You mean you'd fly this thing and…take me?" Lucy asked, anticipation welling up even as the still-present doubt tried to reason with her.

"Of course," he said, smiling widely. He hopped up and slapped one of the buttons on the console. The TARDIS objected, shuddering and grinding gears. "Oh, shut up!" he yelled. Lucy got out of his way as he ran around, twisting knobs, throwing switches, and finally pulling the lever. The tall thing in the middle of the console began to pump and the 'vworp, vworp' noise Lucy had first heard the day before began to sound.

"Hang on to something!" The Master yelled.

Lucy grabbed the railing with white-knuckled hands and tried to breathe as the ship shuddered and tossed. "Is it supposed to do that?" she demanded.

"It's a type 40 TARDIS," the Master said loudly. "Old relic. Supposed to be manned by six."

"Need help?" Lucy offered, though she didn't know what good she'd be.

"No!" The Master said, "Now to get rid of that infernal noise!" he threw a lever and the 'vworp' stopped. "He left the brake on; idiot," The Master mumbled.

All of a sudden, the engines settled down and stopped. Lucy looked around. "Is that it?" she asked. "I thought it would be more…g-force like, I guess."

"Do you even know what a g-force is?" the Master asked derisively.

"I know women can withstand more of them than men," Lucy said defensively.

He snorted, stalked to the doors, and threw them open impressively. "The year 100 trillion, the end of the Universe."

Lucy tiptoed up behind him and peered out, gazing in wonder at the vast blackness, barely lit by a few lights in the sky. She stared into the velvet dark. It was so very… quiet, out here. _Is this what the future is like, so still and dark and quiet_? "What are we…on?" she whispered.

"We're floating," the Master said. "There's a planet down there, but I don't care to deal with the savages."

"Where's the sun?" Lucy asked.

"We aren't in your solar system," the Master said, slightly irritated. "And all the stars are going out, burning down. End of the Universe, I told you."

"Why am I not dead?" Lucy asked, glad that she wasn't, but wanting to know nonetheless.

The Master put an arm around her shoulders and said, "The TARDIS has shields of sorts that keep oxygen, heat, and gravity normal within a few feet of her. Do you see, Lucy?" he asked her. She turned into his shoulder to get a better look at his face. "Do you see what I can give you? Anything in the Universe. Any wish you want, you'll get it. Anything at all." He whispered, "What do you want?"

She blinked at him. Anything she wanted? Could he really do that? What… she didn't even –couldn't even think what she wanted. Except maybe –but no, she had said no. It was too ridiculous, impossible; she was the _sensible _daughter –she didn't _do _things like this…it wouldn't work anyway… ahh, she didn't, but she did.

She had no idea what she wanted.

Her face must have showed this play of emotions and thoughts, because the Master smiled down at her. "Ohh, _I_ know. I know, Lucy," he whispered. "I know what you want."

His index finger brushed her temple and began to tap out a beat: tri-pa-let _one,_ tri-pa-let _one,_ tri-pa-let _one._ "Won't you marry me, Lucy?" he murmured.

Lucy blinked very slowly, all things fading away until she only focused on him. "Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, smiling. She threw her arms around him and they kissed, long and slow. Lucy felt the Master's lips smile against hers, and felt extraordinarily happy.

_ 'Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, _

_/Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;_

_ /But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token…' Edgar Allen Poe, the Raven_

* * *

><p><em><em>**Please review! Also, if you check out my profile, there's a link to my tumblr where I am posting graphics I make for this story. Take a look! :) **


	4. It was you who held me under

**AN: I really enjoy feedback, so let me know what you think! Thanks for all the comments so far!**

**4: "I realized that it was you who held me under  
>–felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids"<strong>

_Two and a half years later_

Time reversed. It rewound back to one year ago on the Valiant before the Toclafane and the world domination and the paradox machine, throwing the occupants of the Valiant all around the ship, until everything stilled. The year had simply …_gone_. But Lucy Saxon knew it had happened. She remembered.

Maybe it was the confusion after Time had been erased, leaving some of them with a whole extra set of memories. Maybe it was the loss of the paradox machine. Maybe it was because the Master was distracted with trying to find a way to beat the Doctor. Or maybe Lucy Saxon was a little less naïve and a little wiser than she had been the last time this moment happened.

Something was wrong with her. She wasn't a stupid woman. She had gotten good grades and gotten them honestly. She had been good at her job. How could she have gotten to be this way –an empty-headed woman who went along with her husband's plans to destroy the world without a murmur? It felt like she was living in a fog! She desperately tried to remember.

The Doctor's voice was echoing in her head: '_One thing you can't do is stop them thinking!'_

Her right eye was beginning to itch.

_Come on, Lucy –THINK._

She had said _"Doctor."_ She had. She had wanted to say something else, something very important, but she couldn't…she couldn't… so she had said 'Doctor' instead.

And before that, _ohhh,_ when he had that girl –what was her name –_Tanya_, and he said they should get to know each other and it might be _fun_, Lucy was so _angry… _but she knew she was going to have to, because the Master said, and there was no use getting angry because she couldn't… she couldn't say…

The itch grew stronger as she went back further.

Before, when that reporter woman came to speak to her –she couldn't even remember her name now –but it was like she couldn't speak to do anything but try to get the woman to leave because she knew too much –oh her eye _burned –_and then her tongue turned to lead and she had let the woman die, with only a whispered "I'm sorry."

_I wasn't always like this, _Lucy thought frantically, squeezing her eyes tight shut to try to stop the pain. _What changed? What changed?_

_…"I can't marry you"…_

"Do it!"

Lucy jumped. Mrs. Jones was pointing a gun at the Master, who sneered, all the while looking for some sort of way out of this situation. The Doctor was speaking to her quietly. "Francine, you're better than him," he said. The gun clattered to the ground as he embraced her.

The Doctor and the Master were talking now, along with Jack –what to do with him, something like that. But Lucy couldn't hear it; it was all a blur, it was all white noise in her ears. The fog was pressing down, choking her.

The gun was right there, within reach.

Her eye was on _fire,_ burning away the fog in her mind.

All Lucy knew was… she couldn't live like this anymore.

The shot rang out, loud and unexpected. All looked first at the Master, who staggered as red bloomed across his chest, and then to Lucy. Her eyes were glazed, but the gun in her hand didn't waver.

She had fought to be different. To be anything and everything Roxanne was not. She had fought for the freedom to be _Lucy,_ not Roxanne's sister, not some empty-headed idiot. She knew how to shoot a gun because her father had a fondness for hunting, and Roxanne never went with him because she abhorred the mess that came with it. Lucy didn't enjoy it, but she learned how to shoot, and shoot well. She refused to be like her sister.

She had refused. Just like she refused now.

The Doctor caught the Master as he stumbled, and Jack grabbed her, taking the gun in case she decided to shoot anyone else.

Suddenly, she began to shake –and not from shock or trauma. She dropped and almost hit the floor before Jack caught her. She was violently having spasms in the Captain's arms, thrashing around like a fish out of water. "Doctor?" Jack asked, alarmed. Martha Jones ran to them to ascertain just what was wrong with her –but then the tremors stopped.

It had felt like her skull had decided to contract and then expand back into place while someone stirred her brain with a red-hot spoon, but it was over –a lingering headache behind her eyes was the only after effect. She opened her grey eyes.

"You can let me go," she said quietly to Jack. "I'm not going to shoot anyone else."

Everyone stared at her, but the Joneses in particular –they had seen her almost every day for a year. Lucy Saxon had perhaps been the best definition of "dumb blond." Now her voice, her eyes, and her face had filled in the blankness with reason, emotion, and a cynical twist to her mouth.

"What on earth?" Martha Jones whispered.

Lucy looked at the Master, who was pale and for once, not speaking. He was just staring at Lucy. "I worked it out," she said, and no longer did her voice have a haunted quality about it. It was sharp –angry. She gathered up her skirt and stepped out of her heels, padding in bare feet towards the two Time Lords. "You asked me to marry you, and I said no. And then you asked me what would change my mind, and I said, 'something pretty spectacular.'"

"A cerebral shift in judgment and self-determination is pretty spectacular," the Master rasped, grinning the wide grin he was known for, the one with a hint of madness.

"You did what?" the Doctor said, shocked.

"Oh, wow," the Master said, grimacing. "I'm dying in your arms, and you're still scolding me."

"You're not dying, don't be stupid," the Doctor said, his grip tightening. "It's only a bullet; just regenerate."

"No," the Master said, his eyes dark.

It had been instinct –years of hunting with Dad –and she was good with guns. She knew the shot had been fatal, though she hadn't meant it to be. And she knew that look on his face –his stubborn, you-have-no-way-to-make-me face. "I only did it because I knew you could," Lucy said, crouching down beside him. "You have to regenerate," she said, glaring at him.

"One little bullet, come on!" the Doctor urged.

His brown eyes stared up into hers, and she felt her veins turn to ice. "I guess we're more alike than either of us thought," he rasped. "I refuse."

Dread was setting in. _No, no, no… you can't do this to me…_

"Regenerate! Just –regenerate, come on!" The Doctor pleaded. "Please!"

"And spend the rest of my life_ imprisoned_ with _you?_" the Master said incredulously. Lucy looked from him to the Doctor, knowing where this was going. Knowing that he would never live like that. _No…_

"But you've got to. We're the only ones left." The Doctor's voice was beginning to crack from panic. "There's no one else. Regenerate!"

"How about that?" the Master mumbled. "I win."

"Don't do this!" Lucy commanded, feeling tears spring to her eyes, from anger –or was it pain? "Don't make me a murderer! Don't you dare!" Her voice faded to a whisper. "_Please!_"

"Will it stop, Doctor? The drumming. Will it stop?" the Master said hoarsely.

Lucy's frame began to shake with sobs. _I didn't want this! _She screamed inwardly.

His eyes met hers for the last time, and then they closed.

**_Song is 'Blinding' by Florence + the Machine_**.


	5. You left me in the dark

**AN: I honestly love this chapter. Don't know why, but I do. I also love your reviews -tell me what you think of the story so far. I want people to enjoy it.  
><strong>

**A Happy Easter to you all! He is Risen indeed!**

* * *

><p><strong>5: You left me in the Dark<strong>

Keys jangled in the lock of her cell door and it swung open, hinges protesting at the motion. Lucy didn't bother looking up from her book.

"Top o' the mornin' to ya, Lucy!"

"It's evening, Jack," she said, turning the page.

"Well," he grumbled, "how can you tell in here?"

"I do have a clock," Lucy pointed out, finally looking up.

Captain Jack Harkness grinned at her from his place in the doorway, and then looked back over his shoulder at the guard. "You can close the door," he said persuasively. "We're not going anywhere." It swung shut behind him.

It had been four months since the day she had shot the Master, and Lucy was still coming to terms with that fact. "Jack, why are you here?" she asked tiredly.

"Just visiting," he said. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Cardiff is hardly 'in the neighborhood'," Lucy said, frowning at him.

He shrugged carelessly. "I thought you might like seeing a familiar face. I heard that you haven't had many people stop by."

He was being kind. No one had. Her father had refused to see her. Roxanne was overjoyed at the scandal her younger sister had gotten into. Lucy had made it known that she would be turned away if she came to gloat. And really… there wasn't anyone else. Joe had been the one to bring her books and things from home, but he hadn't stayed, and she hadn't asked him to. "Prison is something of a deterrent to people," she said cynically.

"Not to me," Jack said cheerfully. "Seen more than my fair share."

"Mmm. Have you come to see if the judge made the right decision?" Lucy asked. Her trial had been secret; very few people knew exactly who the Master was or remembered what he had done, or even why she killed him. Her heart gave a painful thump, and she forced her mind away from that.

"Nope, I just wanted to see if you were doing okay. Return a favor."

Lucy looked at him blankly. "What?"

"You probably don't remember," he said. "Can I sit down?"

She waved him at the lone chair in the room; she was sitting on the bed. "Suit yourself," she said. She stuck her finger in the book to mark her place.

He straddled the chair and cracked his knuckles. "It was a bit more than halfway through the year," he said. She knew which year he meant. "There I was, chained up under the decks of the Valiant, working on the 19th escape plan, and all of a sudden, you wandered through below decks."

Lucy tilted her head to the side. She couldn't recall this.

"It wasn't one of your better days," Jack said, noticing her look. "So in you walked, and I said hello. No one really talked to me, for fear of incurring the Master's wrath, so I wasn't expecting a reply. But then you said hello back." He shrugged.

"Is that it?" Lucy asked, confused.

"No," Jack said. "We talked. Not about much, just random, chatty things. You seemed pretty spacey, and wandered off again. But then a few days later you came back."

"I don't remember any of this, Jack."

"You don't have to," the Captain told her. "It was erased from time." He grinned. "That's a good reason not to remember something. But…it was a comfort. And I'm grateful. So this is me, returning the favor."

Lucy looked down at her hands. "Thank you," she said awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

"Has the Doctor been by?" Jack asked suddenly.

"No," Lucy said, confused. "Why would he?"

"Well…I don't know. Seems like something he'd do," Jack said.

"I killed the Master and made him the last Time Lord in existence," Lucy said, laughing without humor. "Again. Why would he come see me?"

"Do you regret it?"

Lucy met his eyes uneasily. "Regret what?"

"Any of it."

Lucy stared off into space. _Did _she? She rewound her life back to that moment in time where she found a big blue box and the most mysterious and enlivening man she had ever known. Lucy took a breath and said, "I don't know."

She had lied, but Jack was nice enough not to call her out on it. "Look…" he said. "If you need anything, call me." He gave her a slip of paper. "My cell phone number. Memorize and destroy, please."

Lucy half smiled. "Top secret business and all that?"

"Of course!" Jack said, flashing her a grin. "But seriously, Lu."

"Don't call me Lu," she told him.

"Right," he said, smirking.

Jack didn't visit very often, but if he did –he made a point of calling her Lu.

She couldn't describe how annoying that was.

* * *

><p>Lucy wasn't blind –not anymore. She had eyes to see, and ears to hear, and she paid attention. Whenever she was allowed out, or went to meals, she could feel the eyes on her, and not just from other prisoners. From the guards, too. And since Lucy was usually classified as an average, harmless individual, unremarkable except for one important fact –she had married a man named Harold Saxon, a man who technically did not exist and was in fact an alien from another planet who took her to the end of the universe –she could only surmise that there was only one reason why they would look at her.<p>

But how would they _know?_ The rest of the world's memories of Harold Saxon were fading, like a dream. She wished it had been a dream, because she could wake up. Or maybe it had been a dream, that state she had been in, and she had woken up to the harsh reality of what she had done.

But it did not change the fact that they looked. And they _whispered. _

Maybe she was just paranoid.

But then the psychiatrist called her in for a visit.

The instant Lucy stepped into that woman's office and the guard closed the door behind her, she felt dislike. She wasn't sure why; it was just a feeling. Or possibly it was because the woman would not stop calling her "Mrs. Saxon." But that woman had the same look the rest of them did –calculating, measured…considering.

She was old, wrinkled with white hair pulled back into a bun, and the reddest nails Lucy had ever seen. Lucy had fallen into a habit of silence, and she used it well, responding only minimally to the questions put to her by the woman (she had forgotten her name). They were only intended to get deeper into her psyche or what-have-you; Lucy knew the woman didn't _care._

Finally, the woman smiled at her (condescendingly, Lucy thought) and said, "Some of the guards think you're crazy, Mrs. Saxon."

Well, that was one way to put it bluntly. Lucy blinked at her and reviewed all of her time with her husband. _I must have been crazy, _she thought. _I must have, to have thought for a smidgen of an instant that he was…he had…_ But then she remembered the way she felt around him, the way he kissed her when he was ecstatic and triumphant. _What was wrong with me? _"That doesn't surprise me at all," Lucy muttered.

"Why? Because you have a history of mental illness in your family?"

Lucy's head snapped up.

The woman smiled at her, cloyingly sweet. "Oh yes, it says here in your file that your mother, Lady Annabelle Cole, was institutionalized after a severe mental breakdown when you were a child. Is that correct?" Her smile faded slightly. "Mrs. Saxon, is that correct?"

Lucy stared at her, tight lipped as the blood drained from her face.

"Mrs. Saxon. Would you please answer the question?"

Lucy was silent, and though the woman tried to get her to talk, she did not say anything else, and finally a guard took her back to her room.

Lucy let out a slow breath as she sank down on her bed. _Mama…._

Her mind flashed backwards, remembering her mother and the last time she had been to see her. Harry had finished placing the finishing touches on the Archangel network that week and would be pitching it to whoever approved such things that day. She was nervous for him. Lucy knew he would make it happen; he had that people-pleasing charisma that worked like a charm, but she was still nervous nonetheless. He had merely smiled at her, patted her cheek and told her to work on the wedding plans because, "_Isn't that what makes you earth girls happy?_"

Now that she was in her right mind, the condescending tone and words made her want to scream.

Still.

She hadn't managed to shake the irrational nerves. And she knew she'd be too distracted to work determinedly on wedding things. So she decided, after long thought, to visit her mother.

Her car rolled up the drive to the Underhill House for the Mentally Ill, and Lucy inwardly winced. She hated those words. Hated applying them to her mother. Signing in with the nurse, she was taken to her mother's room.

"Annabelle, someone's here to see you," Bridget, the nurse, said to the figure seated away from the door, looking out the window. Then she left.

Lucy came around to see her mother's blank face framed by her curly ash-blond hair. "Hello, Mama," she said. "It's me, Lucy."

"Lucy?" her mother said slowly, like she was dragging her tongue through syrup. "I have a daughter named Lucy."

"Yes, Mama," Lucy said, pulling up a chair and sitting by her mother. "That's me."

Her mother stared at her with a blank face. "Where is Roxanne? She said she'd visit me," her voice took on a plaintive tone.

"She's busy, Mama," Lucy told her mother, her tone going flat, not mentioning that the last time her sister had seen her mother was at Christmas, three years ago. "She's modeling these days."

"She's too fat to model," her mother muttered, and Lucy giggled. "But she's got brains, which you certainly don't have." Lucy's smile died. "My Lucy," Lady Cole sighed. "I said, all through your school years, I said to myself, 'what's to become of Lucy, with no brains or beauty?' I despair of you, child."

"Mama," Lucy said, swallowing. "Mama, I've grown up."

"All legs and a long nose," her mother muttered, not understanding or choosing not to hear, Lucy could never really tell. "And your father's capacity for being a doormat."

"I'm not –" Lucy began to snap, and then lowered her tone. "I'm not a doormat, Mama. I've come to give you some news."

"Is Roxanne visiting?" Her mother asked hopefully.

"No," Lucy said, struggling slightly to get the words out past the rock in her throat. "I'm getting married, Mama. I met a man, and I love him. He's wonderful." A tremulous smile appeared on her face.

Her mother's expression actually changed to appear horror-struck. "Love? Love?" she said.

"Yes, Mama."

"You're not in love, you're just silly," her mother said.

"No," Lucy said strongly, her grey eyes flashing. "I _know_ I love him, and I'm going to marry him."

Her mother's face settled down into a resigned look. "Well, maybe that's all you can do," she said, displeased. "Get married, have babies, keep house…"

Lucy shook her head emphatically. "No, you don't understand. Harry has ambition. He's making a plan to put fifteen satellites into the sky for a phone network. He's working on maybe being Prime Minister." She said in a hushed voice, "He's so… _so_…" she couldn't find the words she wanted. "He wants _me_ by his side. He took me to see the _stars _–"

Her mother laughed, flashing a wry grin that Lucy hadn't seen in a very long time on her mother's face, though she had seen it often enough on her own. "_Now_ who's delusional?" her mother said, the most lucid thing Lucy had heard her say in over a year.

Her chin trembled, but she tightened her hands around her clutch purse and refused to let it wobble anymore. "I just wanted to tell you," she whispered, rising. "I wanted you to be happy for me." _But now I see that's not possible. _She walked to the door, and turned back. "Goodbye, Ma– Mother. I …I love you," she whispered.

"Silly girl," was the only reply.

The door clicked shut behind her, and Lucy ran to the bathroom on the first floor and cried for a long, long time.

And even though that had been one and a half (or two and a half) years ago, a tear still dripped down Lucy's nose to splash onto her lap. She smeared away the other tears.

_I can't be crazy,_ Lucy thought. _I can't._

**Song is "Cosmic Love" by Florence + the Machine**_  
><em>


	6. I can hear your heartbeat

**AN: it's like 10:05, but I made it! Hope you enjoy this installment! In case you've forgotten/didn't get the memo, I have graphics that go along with this story, and the link to my tumblr is on my profile page in case you're interested!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>"And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat"<strong>_

Lucy sat up with a gasp, breathing hard from escaping sleep. _It was just a dream, _she tried to convince herself, pushing her bangs away from her forehead. _It was a bad dream. _

But she had had the same dream for the past month. It was getting stronger. And it was building.

Her heart was still beating rapidly, and she could still hear the voices echo in her ears. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she hugged them, knowing if she drifted off again, it would only happen again. That dream.

Well, it wasn't exactly the _same _dream, not really. But it always ended the same way –with fire, destruction, chaos… and that laugh.

_His_ laugh.

Two years, and she could still recall every laugh, every smile, every glare, every touch, every kiss… she wished she couldn't. She wished she could forget him.

But when everyone in prison calls you _Mrs. Saxon_ and looks at you out of the corner of their eyes…it's not so easy to forget.  
>Nor was the Master ever a man one could just ignore. She certainly couldn't.<p>

She looked at the clock that glowed in the dark and noted that it was around midnight. She could either drift off again, or stay awake. Her head began to pound with the ever-present headache that she had had for over a year. At this point…she would be thinking about him if she slept or not, and her head hurt whenever she was awake, so she lay back down again.

_He's coming back,_ she thought. _He's coming back, and there's nothing I can do except hope and pray that my message got through and somebody is prepared for it…_

_What will I do, if he really does come back?_ She thought.

Staring at the ceiling, she remembered that Christmas was only a week away. _What a marvelous Christmas present that would be. _

Not.

* * *

><p>Ah, yes, <em>Lucy thought, as the dream began again<em>. I know this bit_. It was her, staring at the TARDIS for the first time. _

_Fast forward to the Master lying on the ground, and her heart skipped a beat, as it did every single time she fell asleep. Golden clouds puffed from his mouth and her eyes watered. Lights sparkled as she danced with him. Her heart soared as she kissed him. Darkness clouded in at the end of the Universe and into her mind._

_ Saying, "I do," at the altar. Beaming as he got elected. She felt his strong arms around her as the Toclafane killed the reporter and her eyes burned. She grinned with glee and triumph, as the world became theirs for the taking. He snarled as he hit her for the first time. She wilted as he ignored her. Felt the recoil of the gun in her hand as she shot him and got her free will back._

Here, things got weird_, she noted. Every night, the dream added something new._

_Fire blazed, ash blew, and something tiny and metal dropped to the ground, plucked up by red nails. Darkness surrounded creatures with tentacles for faces as they whispered in endless circles. People she didn't know flashed by: dark skin, light skin, old, young, blond hair, burning eyes. She could hear the drums, feel the flames, see the darkness, taste the blood. She could see his face, thrown back as he cackled with laughter. _

And then she woke up, and it was time for breakfast. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she thought, _I feel more tired when I wake up than when I go to sleep. _

* * *

><p><span>One week later<span>

Her headache had been worse than usual today, Lucy reflected as she sat in her cell waiting for sleep. Medicine didn't help; sometimes it made her sick. She rubbed at her eyes and leaned against the wall as she sat on her bed. She thought the stronger headache might have been because of that new woman in Broadfell Prison. She seemed to be a person of power of some sort; Lucy couldn't tell what. She had only seen her for a few minutes at dinner, but during those few minutes, she smiled a great deal and stared at Lucy far too avidly. Lucy distrusted both of those things.

Odd, that. The Master had done both frequently, and Lucy hadn't minded a bit.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the idea from her head. She must be tired. Lucy tilted her head back and closed her eyes, willing the headache to shut up for a minute, even if she'd get swept into the dream world. Her eyelids felt so _heavy_….

_She heard the familiar scrape and grind of the TARDIS and knew she was dreaming again. She watched the flashbacks of her time with the Master, vivid and sharp in her memory. Why was it so real, so vibrant? When she got to the weird bit, she heard the whispers from the tentacle-y creatures, saying things she didn't understand._

I don't get it, _she thought. _Why am I dreaming of things that don't make sense?

_"There is another, the most lonely of all –lost and forgotten," one said as the fire flickered and Lucy's vision blurred in the dream. It seemed to look straight at her. "The woman in the cage –who is she?" The dream twisted and turned, smoke billowed. _

_"I can show you," a man said. _

_She knew that voice. _That's the Doctor, _Lucy thought. _What is _he_ doing in my dream_? _

_As if she was jerked, she flew through the scenes of the days of the Valiant, watching herself beam at her husband. The Doctor said, "The Master married a human, a woman called Lucy, and he corrupted her." _

No he didn't, _Lucy objected._ He didn't…he…what _did_ he do, really?_ All Lucy knew was that she couldn't say 'no' to him. But… she saw herself smile as the Toclafane took over the Earth. _

_She hadn't always wanted to. _

_"And yet you did not see," the creature whispered. "See it now." Red nails grasped a shiny silver object, and the Master's laugh echoed through time and space. _

Lucy jerked awake with a smothered cry and realized that there were tear tracks on her face. She clenched the edge of the bed and wept in silence. _I don't even know why I'm crying,_ she said to herself as the tears slipped past her eyes.

Feet that didn't bother to be quiet thumped down the hallway. It was late at night, why…? Lucy scrubbed the tears from her face and set her jaw as a key turned in the lock of her door. _It's happening now,_ she realized, and felt cold all over.

The door swung wide on its hinges with a rasping sound, and the psychiatrist woman with blood red nails stood in the doorway, looking down at her. She motioned with her head, saying nothing. Lucy dared to glance behind her at the female guard, Ruby. The look she got was firm, and it stiffened her spine enough to stand and leave her cell. She had a weapon, and she would use it if she had to. But if he came back to life, she wouldn't be a murderer anymore…wasn't that a good thing?

She followed the woman and the guards trailed along behind, along with some other random people, down the prison hallways toward the basement, where Lucy had never been before. Fearfully looking around, she saw the smiling woman from earlier today, with wide lips and blond hair (it probably come from a box). Her stomach clenched. She had been right.

The woman was still smiling, but now it was a grim smile, the smile of barely suppressed triumph. "Mrs. Saxon. Let me introduce myself. I'm your new governor. I'm afraid the previous governor met with something of an _accident_… which took quite some time to arrange." She turned to the older woman. "Miss Trefusis, if you will prepare." _That_ was her name! No wonder Lucy had never remembered it. As the woman moved to the side of the room to pick up a box, Lucy's eyes followed her, taking in the rest of the room, the candles, and the odd stone pedestal in the middle.

"You kept your silence well, Mrs. Saxon." Lucy twitched and her eyes flew back to the smiling Governor. "Your trial was held in secret with no jury. So no one knows who Harold Saxon was. Where he came from. Why you _killed_ him." Her face took on a sneer._ "_Make her kneel," she said. Lucy's heart skipped a beat, but the hand that shoved her to the cement was Ruby's, and that was one bright spot in this charade. The governor advanced toward her, saying, "There are those of us who never lost faith. And in his wisdom, Harold Saxon prepared for this moment. He knew that he might die, and he made us ready. Tonight, Mrs. Saxon, he _returns_!"

Miss Trefusis stepped forward, holding something shiny and metal. Horror curled in Lucy's stomach as she saw it was the Master's ring. She gasped as goose bumps broke out on her bare arms. _How did they get that?_ She thought frantically.

She had realized after a year that it wasn't like him to not have a way out; he _always_ had a way out. But this was just sick. _They really believe this,_ she thought to herself. _How can anyone be this blind?_

Scratch that. She had been. But the Archangel network had been dismantled. They couldn't be under his spell anymore. Which meant they were obsessed.

She shuddered, as his laugh rang in her memories.

But the governor was speaking again. "As it was written in the secret books of Saxon, these are the potions of _life_." Lucy shuddered at her tone. It sounded horrible, with that sort of slavish devotion in it. The people in the room began to pour liquid over the ring and into the stone pedestal, which wasn't actually a pedestal after all; it was really a vat.

_This cannot be happening, _Lucy thought. "Listen to me," she began, "whatever he told you, you've got _no idea_ what you're doing." She had to make them understand, to see reason. She had found a way to say no; they could too.

"Miss Trefusis, the catalyst," the governor said, smiling.

Miss Trefusis began to walk toward Lucy. "What are you doing?" she demanded fearfully. "Leave me alone! _Don't_!" she screamed as the woman grasped her ponytail, digging her red nails into her scalp as she wrenched her head back and swabbed Lucy's lips with a handkerchief. Lucy felt weak and shaky; whatever she had been expecting, that wasn't it.

"You were Saxon's wife," the prison governor said, like it was obvious. "You bore his imprint. _That's_ what we needed. The final _biometrical signature_."

_That's just another way to say I kissed him a lot, _Lucy thought to herself. She could recall every single one of them. This was like a bad dream, but she could wake up from this dream. Her head was beginning to pound again. "You can't bring him back. You _can't!"_ She didn't know if she was strong enough to kill him again.

The handkerchief hung over the hissing vat before being dropped in. Something like lightning cracked and a blue light spilled over the lip of the vat before shooting up in a spiral. There was wind, though Lucy didn't know where it had come from, and it was loud, so loud in her ears. "I'm _begging _you!" she shouted. "Stop this now, before it's too late!"

All the people in the room began to glow with that eerie blue glow. The governor screamed, "We give ourselves that Saxon might _live_!"All the fanatics began to fall to their knees, and Lucy wasn't sure if it was from weakness or some sort of obeisance. The central blue light over the vat grew stronger, and the wind intensified.

"Can't you _see?"_ Lucy exclaimed desperately. "He lied to you! His name wasn't even _Harold Saxon_!" She scrambled to her feet, away from the blue light. She could see Ruby out of the corner of her eye, edging away too.

"_And this was written also!_ _For his name is…_ **The Master**!" the Governor said in a loud shout.

As Lucy stared in horror, the blue light began to solidify into a body, partially seen through the light and the wind. "Never… never… never dying," the figure hissed in her husband's voice, and he began to take note of his surroundings. The blood drained from her face. "Never dying! Never _dying_!" he shouted triumphantly. And then he laughed, and she alternately felt chills down her spine and flips in her chest.

She clenched her fists.

His eyes –brown and sharp –fell on her, and he smiled, holding out his arms. But the smile didn't meet his eyes. It was hard and cold. "Oh Lucy… _sweet_ Lucy Saxon, my ever faithful. Did the widow's _kiss_ bring me back to life?" he asked mockingly.

Her eyes spun around the room, at the people falling to the floor. "You're _killing _them!" she yelled. She was not the same woman who had danced when the world burned.

He glanced at them carelessly and then back at her. "Oh, let them die. They're just the first," he said with a laugh. She wished he'd _stop laughing_. "The whole stinking human disg_race_ can fall into the pit_."_

_This is wrong, _she thought strongly. _But how can I do it? How can I kill him _again_?_

He clapped his hands to his temples. "Can't you hear it Lucy? The noise? The drum beat? Louder than ever before." He inhaled strongly. "The drums, the _never-ending_ drums. Oh, I have _missed_ them!" He laughed at her, and she could see it –he really had.

Lucy felt like she had been slapped. She had lived with this man for two and a half years, never mind that one had been erased. She knew those drums. They drove him, they inspired him, and they tormented him. She had stayed up all night holding him once, because she couldn't leave him alone to face them by himself. Listening to his heartbeat, she had wondered how loud the drums must be, to cause him that much pain.

He could never _miss_ the drums.

"No one knew you better than I did," she snapped. "I _knew_ you'd come back. And all this time your 'disciples' have prepared. But so have we!" _Granted_, she thought, _we didn't really know what to prepare _against_, other than the potion bit, but I was ready, even so_. Her resolve had been stiffened and she wasn't backing down. Ruby held out the vial of red stuff, and Lucy grabbed it, holding it tightly in her hand. It wasn't all that much… would it be enough?

"What are you doing?" The Master said ominously.

**"**The 'secret books of Saxon' spoke of the potions of life. And I was never that _bright,_" Lucy said in a bitter, self-deprecating tone, "but my family had contacts –people who were clever enough to calculate the opposite!"

"Don't you _dare_!" The Master commanded, glaring down at her.

She pulled the cork from the vial as her heart ripped.

"I'm _ordering _you, Lucy. You will obey me!" he shouted.

She shook her head, eyes stinging and smarting. Her headache was beating against her skull. "No," she said. "I refuse!" She tossed the vial straight at him as he screamed. There was a wave of blue light, followed by flames –scorching hot flames. Lucy tasted blood and choked on fire –and then there was simply nothing.

_**Song is still "Cosmic Love" by Florence + the Machine.**_


	7. As if death itself was undone

** "No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone…" **

It was so hard to breathe… it was hot, and wet, and there was something stabbing her back. Lucy pried her eyes open and coughed, breathing in the hot air full of smoke and ash and water. She pushed her body upright, looking around. The roof was gone –she could see the black sky. Her vision was blurry, but it could pick out pockets of flame here and there, as well as blackened, mangled shapes.

Bodies.

Her stomach threatened to be sick, but there wasn't anything for her to be sick _with_. She spat a glob of blood out of her mouth; at some point she must have bitten her tongue. Just as Lucy realized that the water was coming from fire trucks somewhere around here, she also realized that she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing –but she wasn't hurt. She couldn't even find the place on her tongue.

_What happened?_ She wondered. She remembered an explosion –she had caused it –and then nothing. How was she not burned?

_I've got to get out of here,_ she realized. She stood and wobbled unsteadily until she got her balance, and began to carefully pick her way over the rubble as her vision began to clear. Scanning for people, she kept to shadows, trying to stay unseen. But where would she go? How could she get there? She was _naked_, for goodness' sake!

Pressing a hand to her mouth, she noticed someone in a firefighter's uniform coming towards her. Had they seen her yet? She crouched behind a broken cement pillar. _What do I do?_ She wondered to herself. Would they send her to another prison? Technically, she had killed the Master _again…_

She did not want to go back to prison. At all.

Lucy blinked as a thought blazed across her mind, along with a number she had committed to memory. She could call _Jack_. He would help. He said he would help. She just needed a phone…

Still in the shadows, Lucy stood up as she saw the fire fighter come into view. "Excuse me," she said. The words sounded ridiculous in this situation. "Please –I need a phone. Do you have a mobile?" She hoped she didn't come across as silly as she sounded to herself. She didn't have a clue if fire fighters carried anything in those big yellow coats… The smoke that was still hanging around, as well as the ash, crept into her lungs and made her cough.

The firefighter started and stared at her. Lucy edged even more into the shadows. "Oh my –all you alright?" The voice was female, and Lucy breathed a sigh of heartfelt relief.

"Yes, I am," _no clue how or why, though, _"I just need a phone –and clothes," she added. "I haven't got any."

The firefighter went for her radio on her uniform.

"No, you can't call anyone," Lucy said hurriedly. "I can explain everything –" lies, she had no idea what had happened, " –but you need to let me call someone."

"I've got to take you to the chief," the female firefighter said. "You need medical attention. Did you come from Broadfell?" she asked.

"I'm not wearing clothes," Lucy reiterated, dodging the question. She was not going back to prison.

"Stay here," the woman said. "I'll get you a blanket, and then you'll let the medics check you out."

"Okay," Lucy said, "but can't I make a call?"

The woman hesitated.

"Where would I go?" Lucy said. "Honestly, I'll come, but I _need_ to make this phone call."

Warily, she fished a mobile phone out of her pocket and walked toward Lucy. She held out a hand. Before she gave it to her, the woman said, "Promise me you'll _stay put_."

"I promise," Lucy said. The phone dropped into her hand. "Thank you," she said heartily.

Opening it up, she typed in the number and hit send, praying she had got it right. It rang once, twice –and then someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Jack?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"It's Lucy. Jack, I've got a problem –actually, a lot of problems," Lucy amended, staring at the destroyed prison and her miraculous good health in the wake of it.

"What is it?" he asked immediately.

"I need you to come get me. Broadfell blew up, and I seem to be the only survivor," Lucy muttered.

"Holy –hang on, I'm coming. Where exactly are you, Lu?"

She chose not to snap at him for that nickname. "Right now? In the ruins. Someone is supposed to bring me a blanket, and I promised to go with her, so I suppose look among the fire crews."

"Okay," Jack said. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"What?" Lucy said. "Cardiff is much further than twenty minutes, Jack."

"I'm not in Cardiff, I'm in London. See you in a bit."

"And Jack? Bring some clothes, if you can manage it," Lucy said.

"…I'm not gonna even ask," Jack said. "Hang in there, Lu." He hung up.

Here was the woman back with a blanket. Perfect timing. Lucy handed back the phone gratefully and wrapped the blanket around herself towel style. "Do you need help?" the woman asked.

"No," Lucy said, stepping out from behind the pillar once she was sure the blanket was secure. "My friend –he's coming to get me."

"You can't go anywhere, not until the medic checks you out and the authorities are notified. Just who are you?" the woman asked, leading her out of the detritus.

"That's classified," Lucy said. She wasn't _positive_ it was classified, but considering the secrecy surrounding her prison sentence, she thought it was a definite possibility. She wasn't sure how long that would hold, though, if this woman's superiors were as nosy as she was.

_You'd better hurry, Jack,_ she thought.

* * *

><p>He said twenty minutes, but he made it in fifteen. She was glad.<p>

She held a mug of tea and sat in the back of an ambulance that hadn't yet left the scene of the destruction. It hadn't been needed –there was no one alive besides her. Lucy knew, in the recesses of her mind, that she had inadvertently killed the rest of the people in the prison with her attempt to prevent the Master from coming back, but it wasn't sinking in yet, and she was glad. She wanted to fall apart somewhere far away from this place.

"Hello, I'm Captain Jack Harkness," she heard him say in his American accent. He was probably turning on the charm to get her released; that, or pulling his Torchwood status on them.

The latter, as it turned out. "In fact, sir, I do have the authority, quite a few levels above yours," Jack said. "I'm placing this woman into my custody, and if you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with someone who has some clout." He appeared in her field of vision and grinned. "Hey, Lu."

"Don't call me that," she told him, swinging her bare feet in the air.

"You didn't tell them anything, did you?" Jack asked.

"No," she said, setting the empty mug down and hopping onto the pavement.

He shrugged out of his greatcoat that was a relic from the last World War and draped it over her shoulders. "Thanks, Jack," she said.

"You've got some explaining to do," he noted, staring at the wreckage.

"I'll see if I can," she murmured, feeling sleepy.

* * *

><p>The car ride to –where <em>were <em>they going? She wondered. Anyway, the car ride was quiet and her eyelids drooped as she struggled to stay awake.

"Where are we going?" she mumbled.

"Martha's apartment. She won't be there; don't worry," Jack said.

Lucy digested this information, yawning widely and rubbing her itching eyes.

"Nearly there," Jack said.

Good. She needed to sleep.

Somewhere along the way, she gave up the fight and let her eyes close. She felt the car stop moving, but she couldn't pry her eyes open. Jack picked her up and carried her somewhere, setting her down on a soft and comfortable surface. It occurred to Lucy that she should thank him –but she had slipped off to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>She opened her eyes to darkness. The moon overhead was well on its way to becoming full, but it wasn't quite there yet. Voices murmured in her ears, comfortable, familiar voices. The low cadence of the tone was relaxing, and if Lucy hadn't already been asleep, she would have dropped off again. <em>

_"Your resurrection went wrong. That energy –your body's ripped open. Now you're killing yourself."_

_Lucy knew that voice. She moved toward it in the darkness, and as she came around a pile of –rubble? Rocks? –she saw the two men on the ground, talking. _

I'm dreaming,_ Lucy thought to herself. _This is a dream. But he's dead, so why am I still dreaming about him? It's not like he and the Doctor would ever have a sit-down chat.

_ "What if I ask you for help?" The Doctor said. The Master stared at him, and Lucy wondered how he had gotten blond. It was a good look, she decided. So was the stubble –lots better than his smarmy politician look. "There's more at work tonight than you or me," the Doctor continued.  
><strong>"<strong>Oh yeah?" the Master said, leaning back and half smiling._

_"I've been told something is returning."_

**_Returning, returning, it is always returning, through the blood and the fire and the dark, it is returning, and he is returning, and they are returning, and she is returning_**_, the dream whisper said, the lilt twisting its way into Lucy's ear. _

_"And _here_ I am," the Master said, sarcastically.  
><em>

_The Doctor shook his head. "No, something more."_

_"But it hurts!" The Master muttered, clutching his head. Lucy reached out a hand before she remembered that this was a dream. _This isn't real,_ she thought to herself. _I can't._ Her hand closed into a fist. But she wanted to.  
><em>

_"I was told the end of time—"  
><em>

_**"**It hurts, Doctor," the Master hissed, interrupting him. "The noise, the noise in my _head_. One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four. _Stronger_ than ever before. Can't you hear it?" he asked incredulously, staring at the Doctor. Lucy swallowed.  
><em>

_"Sorry," the Doctor whispered.  
><em>

_**"**Listen, listen, listen. Listen," the Master whispered agonizingly. "Every _minute_, every _second,_ every beat of my _hearts_. There it is, _calling_ to me. _Please** listen**_," he begged. The look on his face pulled at her heart._

_"I can't hear it," the Doctor said sadly.  
><em>

_**"****Listen**," The Master growled, and pressed his forehead to the Doctor's.  
><em>

_The Doctor pulled back with a gasp after only a second, staring disbelievingly at him. "I …_heard_ it. But that's no noise. It never has been. It's just your insanity… What_ is_ it? What's inside your head?" he asked, staring wild-eyed._

_The Master slowly began to smile as he stood up. "It's real. It's real!" he shouted._

Of course it is,_ Lucy thought, as the scene began to change. _I've known that since I met him.

_Lucy jumped as one of the tentacled creatures from her dreams interposed itself over the scene and whispered, **You did not see, Lucy. See it now**. _

Hang on, I dreamt you,_ Lucy thought. _How can any of this be real? This is _my_ dream.

**_Events that have happened are happening now,_**_ it whispered._

_The darkness swirled, reconfiguring into the black, black of space. The only dot of color in the dark was one rectangle of blue. As it grew bigger, Lucy could see herself and the Master standing in the doorway of the TARDIS at the end of the Universe. _I thought we stopped with the flashbacks, _she thought. _

_She watched herself stare at the Master with confusion and indecision on her face. A pleading look came over her past self, asking mutely for something. The Master cradled her head in his hands, whispered something, and tapped out a rhythm on her temple._

_Lucy realized, _this is when he stole my free will.

_Her past self's eyes closed, and then reopened to stare at the Master. She smiled happily and kissed him fervently, winding her arms around his neck. Her expression was one of –relief?_

_It hit Lucy then, like a ton of bricks. _

He asked me what I wanted,_ she thought to herself. _I wanted… to say _yes._ He took my ability to say no so that I could say yes. I wanted to say yes…because I loved him.

I still do. But…he's dead. I killed him.

Lucy woke up crying.

* * *

><p>The smell of food finally coaxed her out of a bedroom that she had never seen before. Hugging the blanket and coat around herself, she poked her head into the doorway where the scent emanated from. Jack was standing there, cooking.<p>

"Um, remind me where I am again?" Lucy asked, frowning in a puzzled way.

"Martha's apartment," he said. "Good morning, Lu."

"Seriously, stop," she said. She glanced around fuzzily. "Um…"

"Shower's down the hall, to your right," Jack said. "Her bedroom is the next door down, so I'm sure you can find something to wear in there."

"Thanks," she mumbled, stumbling off. Basically, she closed the door to the bathroom, dropped the blanket and coat, and stepped immediately into the shower. Turning on the water, she nearly shrieked at the cold liquid blasting down at her. Soon, however, the water began to heat up. Lucy scrubbed her hair, realizing that it still had ash in it from the fire. _Martha's guest bedroom sheets will probably have to be washed, _Lucy thought to herself, soaping up and washing herself off. Hang on. Why _were_ they at Martha Jones's apartment? Where was Martha?

_Actually, _Lucy thought, _it's Christmas today, so she might be with family and stuff. _

_Merry Christmas, me._

She shut off the water and pulled a towel from the rack, rubbing her skin dry. She stepped through the bathroom and into Martha's bedroom with the towel securely in place around her torso. Now to find where Martha kept her underwear…

She opted for plain white underclothes, since they most likely were not the same size. Also, the clothes would be much easier to return. Jeans Martha had in plenty, but they were loose on Lucy. A belt solved that problem. Now, shirts… Lucy stared at Martha's closet. Didn't she just have some bum-around-the-house T-shirts?

Not many, apparently. Lucy finally pulled out a Beatles shirt that looked like it hadn't been worn much. "Nobody appreciates good music anymore," Lucy mumbled to herself, slipping it on and humming a few bars of a song. Shoes she didn't need at the moment. Toweling her wet hair, she walked back into the kitchen to find a plate of scrambled eggs and toast sitting at the table. "Is this for me?" she asked.

"Yep. I've already eaten. This is batch number two," Jack said. "Nice shirt."

"Compliment Martha, not me," Lucy said, sitting down. "By the way, why did you bring me here, and where is she?"

"When you called me, I was doing some surveillance stuff, and planned to sleep in my car. Then I decided to break into Martha's apartment because it was close by," Jack said. "I think she's at her mom's with Mickey, her boyfriend."

"Oh," Lucy said. "When do you plan on telling her you broke in?"

"Sometime later," Jack said, off-handedly. "Maybe never, if we clean up well."

Lucy looked at him harder. "Jack, what were you doing surveillance work on Christmas for?"

"Christmas Eve," he corrected her. "I didn't have anything else to do."

She wanted to ask him if he had any place to go, any friends to spend the holiday with, but she didn't. She knew what it was like to be alone. "So…this surveillance," she said, starting to eat. "Mmm!" she said, surprised. "This is good."

"Thanks," he said, flashing her his trademark grin. "I'm in the process of tracking alien tech down that went missing from Torchwood after the battle of Canary Warf. I got wind that Joshua Naismith picked some of it up and has been doing something with it."

"Who?" Lucy asked, biting into the toast.

Jack looked at her, and then blinked. "I forgot that you've been…out of the loop. He's this guy that's pretty influential. He's written a book. It wasn't that interesting," Jack muttered. "Waste of my money."

Lucy smirked. "So you just decided to camp out in your car while watching this guy's house?" Lucy asked, propping her head up on her hand. "Nice, Jack."

"Glad you think so, Lu," he said. "Now, do you think you can tell me what all went on at Broadfell Prison last night?"

Lucy paused with her fork in the air. "Well, I'm not all that sure myself," she said.

"Just tell me what you remember," Jack said.

Lucy's gray eyes grew hard. "Am I going to have to go back to prison, Jack?"

"Eventually," Jack said. "You don't mean that this was your big escape attempt, do you?"

Lucy didn't appreciate his humor.

When she didn't laugh with him, he grew sober. "Lucy, you _did_ kill the Master," he said. "You still have time to serve."

_Twice,_ her brain objected. _I killed him twice. Along with everyone else in there. _Her heart wrenched, and suddenly she had no more appetite. Something in her throat caught, and she felt a deep burning behind her eyes and underneath her breastbone. Rubbing did nothing to relieve the ache.

"Lu?" Jack asked, concerned. "You okay?"

She stared at him and felt horribly empty. "No," she managed to whisper. "Not at all."

* * *

><p>The Master groaned as the smell of someone else's coffee hit his nose. He sat up in an unfamiliar bare room and cracked his stiff neck. Something hard impeded that process, and his fingers found the leather wound around his neck. <em>A collar,<em> he thought. _D$*&._ He remembered the sharp jab into his neck when the humans swarmed out of the helicopter, and wrote part of the stiffness up to that. So he was caught. And the Doctor was on his trail again, but that didn't matter. But hell, he still looked like Harold Saxon! There hadn't been enough essence in the ring to code a new DNA sequence.

The coffee smell got stronger, and an image flashed into his mind of –of Lucy, standing over him and smiling, saying, _"No, this is _mine_. I'll make you your own."_ But she was dead. He had seen her body, blackened and burnt and still from the massive explosion. The explosion she caused. The explosion that made him come back all wrong, and kept him in this state of dying as he burned himself up. The drums pounded in his dead, previously dulled by the drug, and he whispered, "Lucy…"

But then the door opened and goons in black came in, shoving him into a white straightjacket. The Master licked his lips as hunger growled incessantly in his stomach. But since whoever controlled these humans had gone to quite a lot of trouble to grab him –and right after he was resurrected, too– he would see what they wanted. This could be interesting.

Profitable, too.

He was so _hungry._

* * *

><p>The Master, full for now from the turkey, raised a lazy and sarcastic eyebrow as he stared at the large contraption in front of him. "<em>Ohh<em>, that's not from earth," he said, an expression of sarcastic surprise spreading over his face.

"And neither are you. The perfect combination, don't you think?"

He smirked. So this human did have a few brain cells rattling around in his thick head after all. He listened with half an ear to Naismith, entirely consumed with the device. Two technicians with shimmers, alien technology, most likely Vinvocci design (they never did things by halves; an efficient race, if nothing else), and –oh! His eyes locked onto the blond woman, who was obligingly rolling up her sleeve. One of his hearts felt peculiar, because for a second he thought she was someone else. And yes, her skin was perfectly whole.

"But what do you want it for?" the Master asked slowly, absorbing all of this in his shrewd way.

"We calculate that if this device can be fully repaired by your good self, it can restore the body forever," Naismith said. "Hence its given title. The Immortality Gate!"

The Master couldn't stop the smile that slipped over his face for half a second, but managed to hold in the laughter. How amusing. _How can humans be so on target and so off base, all at the same time? _He wondered, looking down at his hands.

"Because that's what I want," Naismith continued. "Not for me, but for my daughter. I want her never to die." The Master glanced at the girl, who had a proud 'cat who just ate the canary' smile on her face. It was a grin of victory, and it soured his stomach, because he had seen that smile on another woman so many times before… it suited her much better than Abigail Naismith.

"My gift to her," Naismith continued. "She will be… immortal." The Master's lip curled.

"Abigail," the girl said, with a smile on her face. "It means 'bringer of joy'."

The Master rolled his eyes surreptitiously. "Immortality Gate" indeed. He wanted to laugh. Humans were so _stupid._ He smirked. Sure, he'd rewrite the program and fix the system, but he'd make a few… _modifications…_ of his own.

He took in a deep breath and caught a familiar scent –a unique scent. The last TARDIS in the entire universe, the Doctor's TARDIS, had just landed somewhere close by. The Master's eyes snapped open as his plan clicked into place. He cracked his knuckles and turned to the keyboard. "Better get to work then," he said, smiling grimly. This would show the Doctor –it would show them all. He loved humans so much. What would he do when there were no more to love?

* * *

><p>One last sequence to go. The Master's fingers flew over the keyboard, so much faster than an average human's.<p>

"Now I don't want you to think I'm a slave driver. We can resume work on Boxing Day, Mr. Saxon," Naismith said.

He turned slowly to him and smiled. "My name," he said, slowly and powerfully, "is the Master." With that, he pressed the enter button with finality and leaned back smugly as he heard the hum of the gate begin.

The blue glow emanating from the gate lit up the Naismith's faces as they exclaimed, but among Naismith's exclamations of delight, there was an order.

"The visitor will be restrained," the dull steward intoned.

"What?" The Master said, exasperated. "But I repaired it," he said slowly, like Naismith might be thick or something. His careful expression was one of wounded innocence.

"I'm not an idiot," Naismith snapped. "Don't let him anywhere near that thing."

The guards hauled the Master out of the chair and shoved his arms into a straightjacket again. The Master snarled in annoyance. Oh well, this would only be a tiny hitch in his plans. Like a few pieces of cloth and buckles could ever 'restrain' _him_. He smiled though Naismith's little speech as the guards did the buckles up tight. _Just wait,_ he thought. _You just wait. _

* * *

><p>"Turn the gate off right now! Don't let him near that device!" The Doctor yelled, skidding into the room.<p>

The Master turned, unsurprised. "Oh, like _that_ was ever gonna happen," he drawled. He felt the electricity sizzle in his finger tips and blasted the infernal white jacket away, as well as the wretched collar. Harnessing more electricity, he used it to propel himself into the blue field of the gate. The Doctor stared at him in shock, and the Master grinned. "Homeless was I. Destitute and dying. Well, look at me now!" The gate began to do its work: analyze, repair, and transmit.

The Master laughed as the Doctor ran around frantically, trying to figure out how to stop whatever was going to happen. He didn't even know what was going on! The Master wasn't worried at all; he could simply blast the Doctor if he got too close to the gate –which he did. Oh, he was going to see the irony in this.

"I can't turn it off!" The Doctor exclaimed, slamming down onto the computer keyboard.

"That's because I _locked_ it, idiot," the Master said. Really, it was too bad that the Doctor caught onto at least a piece of his plan and stuck the old fool who came with him into the shielded booth. "Fifty seconds, and counting," the Master told the Doctor smugly.

"To what?" the Doctor said, exasperated and panicked, all at the same time.

_He gets that way when he doesn't understand, _the Master thought, rolling his eyes. _It was the same way at the Academy, studying for his exams._ "Oh, you're gonna _love_ this," the Master told him.

"What is it?" the Doctor demanded. "Hypnotism? Mind control? You're grafting your thoughts inside them. Is that it?"

"Oh, that's way too easy," the Master said, baring his teeth in a fierce smile of triumph. "No, no, no, they're not going to think like me. They're going to _become_ me. And… ZERO!" The energy that had been building up inside the gate suddenly burst forth to encompass…the entire world.

* * *

><p>Lucy offered to do the dishes from breakfast in order to get out of more probing questions from Jack. He could cook really well, but he left black stuff at the bottom of all his (Martha's) pans. And if Jack really wasn't going to tell Martha about this stay, Lucy would need lots of elbow grease and a good scrubbing to get rid of the crud. Using a generous amount of dish soap, Lucy finished with the plates and silverware and started on the frying pan, using the handy scrubbing brush there at the sink. Jack wasn't going to be content without some type of story, Lucy mused. She needed to think of what part of the truth to tell him, and what parts to invent. Or maybe she should just claim ignorance of everything… though the whole not-burned-and-dead bit was a bit fishy. But <em>she<em> didn't know how that had happened, so she certainly couldn't explain –

Suddenly, Lucy discovered she had the most awful pounding headache, of migraine proportions. Part of her vision went dark; she grabbed onto the counter to steady herself with one hand and clutched her temple with the other. Hang on –she had _dueling_ headaches. It was like one was clamping down on her head and the other was pushing back against it. She felt like she was going to be sick. She had to do something to relieve the pressure and the roaring in her ears and the… the _laughter_…

Just as Lucy thought her head would melt, or pop, or something, one of the headaches –the one that was more _her_ headache, and not the invader –won out, and she was free. Barely having time to register this, she heard a heavy "thump" and a sound like smashing dishes. She staggered out into the living room to see Jack lying on the floor with a smashed coffee cup by his side. He was… changing. As his face shifted into her deceased husband's, Lucy stared, horrified. The shaking began again and formed back into Jack for a few seconds, and then changed again. _What is going on!_? Lucy thought frantically.

"Breaking news," the TV said in the Master's voice. Lucy jumped, not realizing Jack had been watching it. There he was, as bold as life, on the television –her husband, the Master. _He must not be dead after all, _Lucy thought faintly. "I'm everyone, and everyone in the world …is me!" She knew her mouth was hanging open, but she didn't feel like she had the strength to close it. The picture switched to another place, but the Master was still on screen. "I'm President –President of the United States!" he exclaimed. "Look at me! Oh, financial solution… deleted!" He said, laughing.

Lucy began shaking her head. "How are you not dead?" she yelled. "How?" She ran to the window, almost tripping over Jack –who was still changing back and forth –and stared out into the street. Figures were walking down the block, waving to one another.

Except for the clothes, they all looked the same.

_Could he really have done it? _Lucy wondered. _Survived the explosion and changed everyone in the whole world into him?_

What a stupid question. He was the Master; of course he could have. And it was just the sort of thing he _would_ do.

_But,_ Lucy thought, staring out from behind Martha's curtains so she wouldn't be seen, _Why haven't I changed, too?_

__**Review and you just might find out!  
><strong>


	8. I wish that I could just be Brave

**AN: THE MOST action-packed chapter. To me, anyway. Please tell me what you think! We're approaching the end.  
><strong>

**"I wish that I could just be brave"**

Lucy stayed glued to the television screen all day, with occasional intervals to peek out the windows to see what all the Master clones were doing. She gave Jack's ever-shifting body a wide berth. It had been too disturbing to watch it change every few seconds, so she grabbed a blanket out of Martha's cupboard and covered it. It still changed shape, but at least she didn't have to look at it.

Lucy still had no idea about why she was immune to whatever had happened to everyone else, but she had a theory about Jack. She knew that he couldn't die –or he could, but he wouldn't stay dead. The Master had killed him often enough on the Valiant. So Jack's molecules or atoms or things were set in stone, sort of, and whatever was changing him was changing those atoms, so his body reacted like he was dying, changing him back into Jack. And then whatever-it-was tried again, and his body fixed itself. Lucy imagined it like some big tug-of-war.

She had no idea if it was right; she had hated biology class and repressed all knowledge learned therein.

She averted her eyes from the blanket-covered body, and turned back to the TV screen. It was still playing, and she changed channels every so often, but they were mostly the same. Plus one cartoon channel, and Lucy thought that was rather funny. Different Masters were talking about things, but Lucy couldn't understand most of it because it was like hearing a one-sided conversation over the phone. She supposed it made sense; if you were everyone in the entire world, the best way to tell yourself things in en masse was to use the television. Every so often, though, she'd get a bit of helpful information, or orders being relayed.

_But what do I do?_ She wondered to herself. _If he's taken over the world, and there really isn't anybody else to help me, how do I help myself?_

More importantly, what did she do when Martha's food ran out?

_Is there really a point to all this? _She thought. _He doesn't plan all that far ahead. Most of his plans end after the 'take over the world' bit. Has he ever thought what he's going to do once he's done it?_ She felt a wry smile pulling across her face at the thought.

_Even so…I'm rather glad he's not dead after all._

* * *

><p>She fell asleep for an hour or two, and when she woke up, she suspected it was because she had always liked the sound of his voice. She rubbed her eyes and changed channels, because the present one wasn't saying much.<p>

Click. "All units, ready to –"

Click. "–Present and accounted for, sir –"

Click. "–Systems go, tune into the Naismith Mansion –"

Click. "Then we listen. All of us, all across the world. Just… listen."

Lucy blinked. What a weird thing to say. Listen to what?

"Concentrate. Find the signal… …There! The Sound is tangible. Someone could only have designed this, but who?"

The signal? The…drum beat! Lucy leaned forward and stared at the screen. What did it mean? The Masters were all listening to it and trying to find it because it was from some other place… but it was the _drum beat._ The sound her husband hated and feared in equal measure, but he clung to it, too, out of necessity.

The sound had tormented him. If it had some sort of sender… that _couldn't_ be good. And if she was the only human left on Earth, there was no one else. Just comatose Jack. Lucy stared off into space. If Jack _was _going to be like this forever, how would she feed him?

She thumped her head with the base of her hand. _Come on! You have bigger things to worry about, Lucy!_ _What are you going to do?_

Really, she only had a few options. Wait here forever, and maybe wish the Doctor would come. Though –Lucy remembered her dream with the Master and the Doctor after the prison blew. If that _wasn't_ a dream, if it _was_ real, then the Doctor was here somewhere. But she couldn't just sit back. The Master wouldn't stop just because the Doctor asked him to!

_He won't stop because I ask him too, either,_ she reminded herself. _I killed him twice. Or… once, and tried to kill him a second time. _

But… she had to _try._

Lucy jumped up from the couch. At one time or another, the television had said the name 'Naismith' in reference to a place. Jack had said something about alien tech and a man with that name. If he was staking out the place, he probably had directions! Gingerly, she peeled back the blanket and rummaged around in Jack's pockets, wincing every time his body expanded or contracted. Lucy sat back on her heels in exasperation when she couldn't find what she wanted.

"His coat!" she exclaimed as a light bulb went off in her brain. She ran for the guest bedroom and dug around in his greatcoat pockets. Yes! Here was a piece of paper in Jack's handwriting, and it _was_ directions! She wasn't quite sure where they started from, but she'd figure that out later. The Naismith mansion looked like it was almost across London from here… she'd have to walk all night.

_That's all right,_ Lucy thought. _Less chance of me being seen._ She wanted to get to the original Master, not all the clones. She grabbed the greatcoat, since it _was _winter, and ran to Martha's closet to try to find some shoes to walk in. She felt bad about taking all her things, but she reasoned with herself that if she sat back and did nothing, Martha would have no need of them anyway.

Martha had a lot of boots, and heels, and apparently not much else. Lucy did finally find a pair of trainers in the back of the closet. A pair of socks went on her feet, and the trainers followed. Peeking stealthily out the window, Lucy wondered how Martha had done it when she walked the earth. _How did she keep from having a heart attack every other second?_ She wondered. _Well, she did have that thing to keep her from being seen, but –_

Lucy blinked and stared. That key –that TARDIS key! _Oh, Martha, be sentimental and all that and please have kept it!_ Lucy begged as she began rummaging around in all Martha's drawers. _Where would it be?_

Not, apparently, in the bottom of her drawers.

Lucy stared all around the bedroom in despair. If she had to search the place, she'd be here all night, and then her chance would be gone! _Now look, you,_ she told herself. _Think like a sleuth. No, just think like Martha. You've got this key on a string, and you want to keep it safe, but you want to look at it every once in a while and remember, so you put it somewhere easily accessible and –oh._

Lucy rolled her eyes, walked over to the jewelry box on the top of the chest of drawers, and opened it. Yes, there it was. She lifted out the key with tiny bits of metal welded onto it and slipped it around her neck, pulling her blond hair through so the string lay against her skin.

_So, am I invisible now?_ She wondered, looking at her reflection in the mirror. It was hard to stare at herself. Her eyes sort of wanted to slide to one side. But when she jumped up and down and waved her arms she had no problem spotting her reflection. _ So walk slowly and don't move too much, _she told herself, buttoning up Jack's coat. _You'll be all right. _

* * *

><p>Her feet hurt. Badly. She had stopped to rest several times during her trip, but they still ached. The TARDIS key was working; she had walked slowly by lots of Master duplicates, and they had never even glanced her way.<p>

It was nearly dawn now, but Lucy didn't dare stop again. She had heard a broadcast during the night, and it seemed that whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon. It wasn't intended for her, but she had listened all the same.

_"A star fell from the sky. Don't you want to know where from? Because now it makes sense, Doctor. All of my life. My destiny. The star is a diamond. The diamond is a _white point star_. I have worked all night dissecting my gift. Now the star is mine. I can increase the signal. Use it as a lifeline. Do you get it now? Do you see? Keep watching, Doctor. This should be _spectacular_. Over and out."_

She wondered why he couldn't see the consequences of what he was trying to bring back. Really, he was an idiot sometimes. If someone had the gall and a heart cold enough to place the drums in his head, he couldn't be good. And now the Master was trying to find whoever-it-was. _I mean, really, _Lucy thought, _sometimes he doesn't see what's in front of his face._

She only had a mile or two to go. The sun began to peek over the horizon to warm her face, and Lucy smiled.

* * *

><p>SMASH! Went the glass roof of the room. The Master barely had time to look up before something hurtled down into the floor with a BLAM! and much tinkling as glass shards rained down around it. The Doctor twitched as his fingers tried to grasp the gun beside him, but then he went limp again on the floor.<p>

_What did he go and do that for? _The Master thought, staring at him. Time Lords were adept at healing, true, but it was going to be painful as hell for the next couple of minutes before bones realigned and internal injuries fixed themselves. _Hang on, what the hell's he doing here?_

"My Lord Doctor," Rassilon said. "My Lord Master." The Master's eyes flicked from the Doctor up to the man striding towards him in a red robe, looking very impressive. "We are gathered for the end."

The Master frowned at him. _No, you're not. Just wait 'til you hear my plan. Now I remember why I don't like you._

With much wincing, the Doctor managed to get halfway up and say, "Listen to me, you _can't_–"

"It is a fitting paradox that our salvation comes at the hands of our most _infamous child_," Rassilon hissed. The Master felt a smile creep up his face. _Child, am I?_ _Well, we'll see about that._

"Oh, he's not saving you," The Doctor said. "Don't you _realize_ what he's doing?"

"Hey!" The Master snapped. "No, that's mine! Hush!" he said, bringing a finger to his lips. Well, since the Doctor almost gave the game away, it seemed like it was time to reveal his plan, his 'master' plan, if you will. "Look around you," he said, flinging out his arms. "I've transplanted myself into every single human being. But who wants a _mongrel_ little species like them? Because now I can transplant myself…into every single Time Lord! Oh yes, Mr. President _sir_, standing there are noble and resplendent… and _decrepit_. Think how much better you're gonna look …as me!"

Rassilon sneered at him and lifted his left hand, so the Master could clearly see the metal gauntlet on it. The Master stared incredulously for half a second before the gauntlet turned blue… and everything began to change. "No, don't!" the Master howled as his duplicates began to reverse, their heads spinning back and forth to revert to the humans they had been. This was almost as bad as the Doctor destroying the paradox machine! "No, don't! Stop it! No, no, NO! DON'T!"

"On your knees, mankind," The Lord President commanded as the humans came to themselves and stared around in confusion and fear.

_I can still salvage this, _the Master thought determinedly. "That's fine; that's good. 'Cause you said 'salvation'. I still _saved_ you; don't forget that!" Of course the Doctor _would _look relieved, now that his precious humans were all right.

"The approach begins!" Rassilon said, looking upwards.

"The approach of what?" the Master asked, frustrated.

" 'Something is returning'. Don't you ever_ listen_?" the Doctor snapped. "That was the prophecy. Not some 'one', some _'thing'_."

"What is it?" he demanded.

"They're not just bringing back the species," the Doctor said, glaring. "It's _Gallifrey!_ Right here. Right now!"

* * *

><p>Lucy looked over the directions in Jack's blocky handwriting again. According to this, she was only a block away; abet a very longish block. Honestly, the houses along this street were huge, imposing monstrosities. Whoever had built them needed to visit an eye doctor or something –<p>

Abruptly, one of the Master clones down the street froze in place. His head began to spin rapidly, like Jack's when it morphed back and forth. She turned around. All of the Master copies down the street were doing the same thing. A sense of great urgency built up in Lucy, and she began to run toward the Naismith Mansion, ignoring her aching feet and the stitch in her side.

As she ran, she saw the spinning stop and all the confused people come pouring out of the houses, talking and jabbering in confusion. Finally, she reached the Naismith Mansion. How helpful, the name was on the gate. Just as Lucy slipped inside, the ground began to shake and roll under her feet. She grabbed a post for support as she tried to adjust to the pitch of the ground. _Just like the give and take of a ship, _she told herself, even though her bones were shaking. _Just run!_ Bolting up the steps, she had to jump aside in order not to be trampled by the hordes of people pouring out of the front doors. They seemed to be terribly scared of something, and then a scream started up as people started pointing at the sky.

Lucy gasped as a huge red planet appeared up above them and loomed closer. That sense of urgency grew into a burning imperative. She shouldered past people when she realized they didn't notice her. _But where do I go?_ She thought frantically. The halls had nearly emptied out.

"Out of my way!" an old man said, shoving his way inside and hurrying along the corridors. Lucy didn't know who he was or where he came from, but she followed him because she had no other ideas. He traveled down a series of halls until it emptied out into a huge room, and Lucy stopped just inside the door. Equipment was strewn about the room, and one wall was entirely filled with a white light. Wind came from somewhere; she couldn't tell. But there were five simply splendid figures standing in front of the white, all wearing red and looking impressive, especially the foremost man. That is, if one was impressed by cruelty. The Doctor was crouching in the center of the room, and the seventh person in the room was staring at the cruel man. Lucy knew who it was.

"But… this is fantastic, isn't it?" the Master said. "The Time Lords restored."

_Ah, so they're Time Lords,_ Lucy thought. She knew that tone. He was trying to think of something, and hadn't yet.  
>"You weren't there, in the final days of the war," the Doctor said in an embittered tone, and Lucy could see the grim look on his face. "You never saw what was born. But if the time lock's broken, then <em>everything<em> is coming through. Not just the Daleks, but the Star of Degradations, the Horde of Travesties, the Nightmare Child. The Could-Have-Been King with his army of Meanwhile's and Never-were's."

_Come on; listen to him!_ Lucy thought.

"The war turned into _hell!_ And that's what you opened. _Right above the Earth. Hell_ is descending."

"My kind of world," the Master said.

_It doesn't have to be!_ Lucy thought, taking a hesitant step forward. Should she…? She gripped the TARDIS key tightly.

"Just listen! 'Cause even the Time Lords can't survive that," The Doctor said.

"We will initiate the Final Sanction," the grand and cruel person interrupted. "The end of time will come, at my hand. The rupture will continue until it _rips_ the time vortex apart."

"That's suicide," the Master snapped.

_He'll never go along with it,_ Lucy thought.

"We will _ascend_," the person said in an imposing tone of voice, "to become creatures of _consciousness_ alone. Free of these bodies. Free of time, and cause and effect, while creation itself ceases to be."

"See now?" The Doctor said. "That's what they were planning in the final days of the war. I _had to stop_ them."

_Oh, don't say that! _Lucy thought. Lucy knew the Master, and she knew how he reacted to the Doctor. _Just like Roxanne and me,_ she thought. _What one does, the other must do the opposite._

"Then… take me with you, Lord President," The Master said. "Let me ascend into glory!"

The cruel man sneered down at him. "You are_ diseased_. Be it a disease of our own making. No more."

Lucy's gray eyes widened. _He's the one!_ Her mind exclaimed.

The evil person raised the metal glove on his left hand and slowly began to uncurl his fingers. _Should I reveal myself? _Lucy thought desperately. _I can't do much except distract him. I just –I can't let him –_

The SNAP of a gun being cocked shocked her. Her mouth hung open, she knew, but she couldn't help it. The _Doctor_ was holding a _gun_.

"Choose your enemy well," the man rumbled ominously, seemingly untroubled by the gun pointed at him. "We are many. The Master is but one."  
><strong>"<strong>But he's the _president_," the Master hissed. "Kill him and _Gallifrey_ could be yours!"

The Doctor pivoted and pointed the gun at the Master as another ominous clicking noise sounded. "_He's_ to blame, not me!" The Master said, staring at the gun. Then he paused. "Oh… the link is inside my _head_. Kill me… the link gets broken, they go back." His low voice outlined a sensible plan, what he obviously thought the Doctor was thinking. "You never would," he said, but his voice held just a bit of a waver on the last word, like he wasn't really sure.

Lucy could see the look on the Doctor's face, and she wasn't really sure either. A muscle in his jaw was twitching, and he looked like he was at the end of his rope. _He doesn't know what to do,_ Lucy thought. _He's actually _considering_ it._

She may not be able to stop the world from falling to pieces, and she may not have been able to prevent the Master's return, but she could stop this. The TARDIS key bit into her hand because she had been clutching it so hard, but now she lifted it and the string it hung on over her head as she took a deep, long breath. "Do you know the thing about shooting a gun, Doctor?" she asked in a carrying (and hopefully unwavering) voice.

The Doctor's eyes widened as his focus shifted from the Master to her. She could feel the eyes of the Time Lords on her as well, and that made her knees want to shake, but everything else disappeared as the Master turned around with an expression on his face full of shock, disbelief, and…wonder?

_He does look nice blond. _Lucy gave him a tiny smile before returning her gaze to the Doctor. "It's easy," she continued. _I ought to know. _"_Not _shooting is the hard thing."

"You're here," the Master said, dumfounded.

Lucy found that she really wanted to laugh at the look on his face, so wide open and confused. At least so far there wasn't any anger or rage over the fact that she had killed him. "Yes, I am," she said, smiling. The trepidation she had felt was now dissipating.

"How can you be here?" he demanded. "You died. I saw your body!"

That made her blink a little. She didn't like the thought that she had been dead. But it wasn't enough to stop the words that popped out of her mouth. "Well, I suppose coming back to life when everyone least expects it is something we have in common now," she said, winding the string around her hand that still held the TARDIS key.

"The final act of your life, Doctor," the impressive man intoned as all heads swiveled towards him, "is _murder_." He had obviously decided that Lucy was beneath his notice, just like the old man in the booth. "But which one of us?"

_It doesn't have to be like this,_ Lucy thought, opening her mouth. But then she noticed the Doctor wasn't quite looking at the threatening man. She followed his eyes and saw a woman with gray-streaked hair and a sad face looking back. But her eyes –oh, her eyes were so old, and sad, and full of love and pride. Lucy knew that look, but had never received it. That woman was a mother looking at her son.

What about the_ other_ woman? Lucy glanced at the other woman, in red brocade instead of velvet, who had at one time had had chestnut hair, but now it had faded to silver. She had a look of love on her face as well, but her heart was breaking –Lucy could see it in her eyes.

She was staring at the Master. He wasn't looking at her.

Lucy felt that he needed to.

Lucy took two steps to the side and bumped the Master's hand with her own. When he glanced at her, she looked pointedly in the woman's direction. He followed her eyes, and stiffened. Lucy looked away, feeling that the intensity of the woman's eyes was too strong for her. The first woman –the Doctor's mother –had lifted her chin, and her eyes were darting back and forth.

The Doctor swung around, and the gun clicked again. Lucy instinctively moved out of the path of the gun. The Master stared at him, still unbelieving.

"Get out of the way," the Doctor said.

The Master's eyes darted behind him, and understanding flooded his eyes as the ghost of a smile crept over his face. Then he dodged, the gun fired, and the machine exploded in a wave of fire and blue sparks and smoke. Lucy dropped to the ground to avoid the spray.

"The link is broken," the Doctor said, dropping the gun. "Back into the time war, Rassilon. Back into hell!"

"_Gallifrey falling_!" one of the Time Lords screamed.

Rassilon –if that's who the cruel and angry man was –glared at the Doctor as his nostrils flared. "You die with me, Doctor!" he yelled, holding up his gauntlet again.

"I know," The Doctor said, his voice resigned.

Lucy looked at the Master. His eyes were growing very, very dark. He stood up behind the Doctor and rubbed his hands together, making them spark. "Out of the way," he growled.

The Doctor turned to stare at him, and then dodged.

The Master pointed his hand at Rassilon, and a streak of blue lightning shot out, catching the other Time Lord in the chest. "You did this to me!" he shouted. "All of my _life_!" He swapped hands, and lightning poured from his other palm. "You made me!" He roared.

"One!" Rassilon started sliding down the staff he held as the lightning blasted him.

"Two!" Lucy gasped as the Master's face changed into a skull for a second, and then changed back.

"Three!" He looked like he was pouring himself into those lightning bolts.

"_Four_!" _He's doing the right thing, _Lucy realized as her skull began to buzz and her eyes started to burn. _He's saving us, just like how he saved me. This is the man I fell in love with._

The white light grew stronger, and the wind blew. Whatever had brought the Time Lords here was now sucking them back. The light wasn't touching the Doctor or her, but it was surrounding the Master. _Oh, no, not now! I will not lose him again!_ Lucy ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, digging in her heels as she felt the strong force try to draw them in.

"Let go of me, Lucy!" the Master yelled, and she could hear the edge of panic in his voice. _Why is he afraid for me?_

_Never again,_ Lucy thought. "I refuse!" she whispered into his ear.

It was like a rubber band snapping, only on a much larger scale. The pull snapped, and the backlash threw Lucy and the Master back into the room. She felt her skull smack into something, and then her vision went black.

* * *

><p>The Master opened his eyes, wincing and staring up at the sky through the broken ceiling. Ah. So he wasn't sucked into the time lock after all. But he was lying on glass shards. Ouch. He decided to move, and so sat up.<p>

Someone made a tiny sound of discomfort beside him, and he looked down into Lucy's face. Her eyes were closed, but she seemed to be fine. He brushed some of her blond hair out of her face, letting his fingers linger a little longer than they needed to. She had _saved_ him. Why did she go and do that?

"I'm alive!" the Doctor exclaimed.

_Yes, you are. Shut up, I'm thinking,_ the Master thought irritably. How on Gallifrey had Lucy managed to come back to life and keep them both from being sucked into the time lock? For that matter, how had she realized what he had done to her when they first met and known enough to shoot him to break the link? It was probably all very subconscious; humans weren't known for being bright and able to explain things in detail. Still…

The Master winced as his body shifted from flesh to skeleton and back to felt drained, and unspeakably hungry once again. The Doctor had been right about the Gate –it hadn't fixed him. He was still dying from the inside out. _You should've just let me fall into the time lock, Lucy, _he thought dismally. And to top it all off, it seemed that even though the Time Lords were gone, the signal still remained in his head, tapping out the four beat rhythm, so very, very loudly.

He could barely hear the Doctor over the sound of the drums, but the Master suddenly registered what he was saying. "It's gone critical," the Doctor said. "One touch and it floods. Even this could set it off," he mumbled, staring at his sonic screwdriver.

"Just leave me," Wilf said.

_Oh, will you shut up,_ the Master thought as the Doctor started moaning. _I am so SICK of you being so noble._ He grabbed a piece of machinery, walked up behind the Doctor, and smacked him over the head before he had the chance to talk himself out of it. The Doctor went down like a sack of potatoes, and the Master figured it was because he wasn't quite done healing from his plummet to Earth.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Wilf demanded. The Master glanced behind him and saw Lucy was beginning to stir. She would hate him for this, but she probably already did, so what did it matter? The Doctor would make sure she was okay. He was sadly dependable like that.

The Master said, "Get ready to run, old man." He was dying and there wasn't anything he could do about it, except get it over with so Lucy didn't have to watch. He yanked the glass door open, got in, and hit the button. He heard the other door open right before five hundred thousand rads of radiation hit him. He was burning up, and he shifted from flesh to bone and back again as the agony flowed through him. _Will I regenerate?_ He wondered. He wasn't sure.

Suddenly, the pain stopped, and he froze. The whole booth was flooded with a brilliant gold light that made it nearly impossible to see anything else. The Master squinted as he caught a glimpse of a figure a long ways away, staring at him, but he heard the whispered words clearly. _"I bring life,"_ a woman's voice whispered. Immediately, his body absorbed the gold light in the booth and it all disappeared.

He fell to the floor, totally spent.

* * *

><p>Lucy shook herself out of the blackness she was swimming in, wincing at the pain in the back of her skull. She sat up and blinked slowly, compensating for the headache that loomed behind her eyes.<p>

The buzzer made her jump, and she turned in time to see the old man stumble out of the booth and the Master curl up in anguish. "No!" she yelled involuntarily. _I just saved you, what do you think you're doing?_ She staggered to her feet and tried to run to the door, but the old man grabbed her arm.

"You can't open that! The radiation will flood the room!"

"Why did he do that?" she said, staring helplessly at the Master.

"The Doctor was going to…" the old man said reluctantly, "But he hit him over the head and let me out instead."

"He saved you?" Lucy asked incredulously.

"Yeah," the old man said, as if he couldn't believe it himself.

"Doctor!" Lucy said, crouching beside his prone figure and shaking him. "Wake up! You have to do something –"

The immensely bright light that blasted from the booth cut off her sentence. Lucy stared at it in wonder and shock.

The Doctor groaned beside her, and then sat up abruptly. "What –what's that?"

"Is he doing that Time Lord thing, where you regenerate yourself?" Lucy demanded. "Why's it so gold?"

"Is the Master in there?" the Doctor asked. Not waiting for an answer, he said, "No, he's not regenerating; it's too bright for that. That light –what _is _it?"

Just as he asked, the light disappeared and all could see the Master fall to the floor. Lucy ran to the door, but the Master pushed it open himself, tiredly. "Oh, great, it opens now," he muttered.

"What were you _thinking?"_ Lucy demanded, managing to catch him before he pitched to the floor. She helped him sit down on the ground as the Doctor and Wilf crowded around him.

"Just that I was dying anyway," he said.

"You're still bone dead stupid," the Doctor said fiercely. "I can regenerate. I'm not sure you can."

"I'm really sick of you being so noble all the time," the Master muttered. "And I'm not dying. Or regenerating. I feel fine, just tired."

"A hundred thousand rads enters your body and you feel fine?" the Doctor asked incredulously.

"Five hundred thousand," the Master corrected. "Yes."

"What was that light?" Lucy asked softly, looking at him, trying to reassure herself that yes, he was still here.

"No idea," the Master said, cracking his neck.

"Well…I… thank you, I suppose," Wilf said. "I'd be dead if you hadn't done that."

The Master rolled his eyes and didn't respond.

"Don't suppose you could give me a lift?" Wilf asked the Doctor.

As the Doctor opened his mouth to reply, sirens began to wail in the far distance. "Ah. Yes. Right! Everyone back to the TARDIS. _Don't_ even think about it," he added, pointing at the Master. "Come along Wilf, Lucy." She pretended not to see the searching look the Doctor gave her.

* * *

><p><strong>Was that epic or was that epic? (well, to me it was. maybe my standards are off.)<strong>


	9. A falling star fell from your heart

**AN: ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER AFTER THIS! And then a small wait for part II. Excited yet?  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>"A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes"<br>**

The Master wasn't talking, and that alone was setting warning bells off in Lucy's head. The only words he had said were, "Oh, so _that's_ where it was," when the Doctor brought the TARDIS back in sync with time. He just sat moodily on the seat by the console as the Doctor dropped Wilf off again and promised to be at Donna's wedding.

Lucy perched herself beside him, carefully not looking at him, just…being there. The Doctor threw some levers to send them off into the vortex and turned around, looking very serious. Lucy worked up her courage to defend the Master to the Doctor, but she wasn't quite sure what she was going to say.

Luckily, or perhaps not so luckily, the words dried up in her mouth when the Doctor said, "Lucy, what have you done?"

"How do you mean?" she managed to say, staring at him.

"You _died_, Lucy," the Master said, and she turned to look at him. He was frowning, but the look in his eyes made her pause. He was remembering something he didn't like. "I saw your body. It had burnt. And somehow you're alive and fine."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed. "And you shouldn't have been able to keep him out of the time lock," he said, with a nod to the Master, "But you did. Come to think of it, how did you get to the mansion so fast after everyone changed?" The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, making it spike more than ever. The cuts on his face were nearly gone now, she noticed.

"I _didn't_ change," Lucy said.

Now she was on the receiving end of stares from two horrified Time Lords.

"You _what?" _the Doctor exclaimed.

"I set the template to human!" The Master exclaimed. "You should have."

They exchanged looks that made Lucy very nervous. "It doesn't matter," she tried to say. "Really." Her eye itched.

"Yes it does," the Master said.

"Tell us everything you can remember, Lucy," the Doctor said, leaning against the TARDIS console.

"Well, I woke up," Lucy began, and told her story to the two Time Lords who both listened intently. She couldn't see anything miraculous about it; it wasn't like she did anything consciously to prevent being changed. She came to the end bit, and finished with, "And so I just held on, and we sort of popped out of the light, and I hit my head." She turned to the Master. "And then _you _go and get in that thing and try and kill yourself –"

"We'll get to him in a minute," the Doctor said. "For now –when you say your eye itches, or buzzes, what you do mean, exactly?"

"Like it's irritated," Lucy said, shrugging. "Like there's something in it. I don't really know."

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and buzzed it over Lucy.

Flames erupted behind her eye and she yelped, curling up and grinding the heel of her hand into her eye to try to relieve the pain.

"Stop it!" the Master yelled and the whirring noise stopped. Cool hands lifted her back into a sitting position and pulled her hands away from her eyes. The Master stared searchingly into her gray eyes, and Lucy did her best not to squirm.

"What do you think?" the Doctor asked, leaning in over the Master's shoulder.

The Master glared at him. "Get out of my light," he snapped. "Look up," he told Lucy, tilting her head and pulling her eyelid back. She did so, feeling like she was at the optometrist's. "Now look down," he said. She did.

"Did you see that?" the Doctor asked, pulling out a large magnifying glass.

"Yes," the Master said acidly. "What do you take me for?"

"Do that again, Lucy," the Doctor told her, peering through the lens.

She did, but asked, "What is it? What are you staring at?" She asked, hesitatingly, "_Is_ there something in my eye?"

The Doctor leaned back with an odd look on his face. "Lucy… can you remember a time when something changed, something small, when the strange things with your eye started? It may have been the most insignificant thing, but I need you to try to remember."

Lucy frowned. "It –it was when I met you," she said, looking at the Master. "You landed in my maze, and I got you up to my room, and then you breathed out this sparkly smoke. It made my eye itch. You did it a few more times as well."

The Master and the Doctor exchanged looks of disbelief.

"Regeneration energy," the Doctor mumbled. "That explains it."

The Master cursed.

"Oi! Watch it!" the Doctor said as the TARDIS rumbled. "She doesn't like that." He patted the console comfortingly.

"Will one of you just explain what you both seem to know?" Lucy nearly shouted.

"When a Time Lord dies, he regenerates every single cell in his body," the Doctor said. "The rebuilding process produces tons of energy, and the excess comes out in bursts. A speck of it got in your eye," he said gravely. "So for three years –"

"Four. The year that got erased," Lucy pointed out.

The Doctor corrected himself. "For four years, that spark has been inside your head. It was just a speck, but it was doing what it was supposed to do –rebuild. But it was only just a speck, so it couldn't work very fast, but it just went along, a cell at a time, rebuilding your body. It only had one set of genes to work with," the Doctor continued on, in his rambling way. "Time Lords have hundreds; that's why we change appearance and everything. So this spark goes along, rebuilding your cells, but it's not _human_ regeneration energy, so it takes your DNA and rewrites it to make it more usable, to make it just a bit, just slightly, a itsy bitsy bit more…Time Lord."

"So… that's why I didn't change?" Lucy asked. "But how did I not… I mean, how am I alive if I was dead?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Four years is time enough to catch on to how your body works. It just kicked into emergency high gear and fixed you up, I suppose."

Lucy marveled that she was actually following this and didn't seem to be freaking out. "So…am I a Time Lord now?" she asked._ Time Lord. I'm a Time Lord. Funny, I still feel like me._

"No," the Master said. "Only about three or four percent of you." He hopped up from the seat and set off down the passageway that led to the rest of the TARDIS at a brisk pace.

"Oi! Where are you going?" The Doctor called.

"Away from _you_, before you can examine me as well!" The Master yelled back.

The Doctor mumbled something under his breath as he pulled the screen on the console down and tapped rapidly into it. "Now I've got to Master-proof the TARDIS," he said, in a slightly griping voice. Lucy figured that was probably a lot like baby-proofing a house.

"Doctor," Lucy said. "Am I – I mean, can I, um…"

He looked up at her with wide eyes and crazy hair.

"Can I stay?" Lucy asked, in a rush. "On the TARDIS, I mean. I _really_ don't want to go back to …prison."

"Oh, prison's not the place for you at _all_," the Doctor said with a smile. "And I need you here, anyway."

"Really? Why?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

"I need someone to be the referee when the Master and I start throwing punches," the Doctor said, grinning. "Now what do you think you'll need?"

* * *

><p>After this came a long period of time that the Doctor liked to call 'domestics.' He told her, after a fashion, that the TARDIS lights would somehow help her get around and find things, and if a door decided not to open for her, just to move on. He told her where the wardrobe room was (very convolutedly), said she could go pick a bedroom (which was down another hallway), and wandered off after the Master. At least, that's where she thought he was going.<p>

She wished him luck; finding anything in the TARDIS was next to impossible. All the doors looked the same. She only found the wardrobe with three tries (and it was HUGE; Lucy wondered why there were so many clothes). Lucy picked out new clothes and carefully folded up all of Martha's clothes and Jack's greatcoat. She slipped the TARDIS key into Martha's jeans pocket. With those clothes under her arm, she padded out barefoot into the hallway and looked left, then right. "I don't suppose you could point me to the bedrooms," she said conversationally to the air. She wasn't sure if being a sentient ship meant the TARDIS could understand speech, but she figured it wouldn't hurt. She didn't want to get lost again, and the Doctor_ had_ said it would help with that. It followed that if the TARDIS could make sure she didn't get lost, it had to have some idea of where she wanted to go.

Still, her eyebrows almost made orbit when the lights actually did turn off in some places to make a path. "Oh." Her eyebrows came to rest in their usual position. "Well, thank you very much." She ventured down a hallway where all the lights were on. "Okay, so all of these are bedrooms…are any occupied?"

The lights stayed on.

"I guess that means no," she mumbled. Lucy brushed her bangs out of her face and went in the first door on her left. It looked like any other guest bedroom, just without windows. She wasn't really interested in boring, though, so she went in the door on the right.

She almost backed right out again. The theme was jungle, and the bed hung from the ceiling by vines while the floor was thick with grass and flowers. The dressers looked like they were grown into the wall. "Okay, not that exciting, please," Lucy mumbled as a monkey shrieked from somewhere. She shut the door.

"Third time is the charm," Lucy said. Someone –she couldn't remember who –had told her a long time ago that the ship was telepathic. But she figured they were right. Fixing a mental image in her mind, she opened the second door on the left.

The cool gold walls were right, as was the queen sized bed in greeny-blue ocean colors. She hadn't thought of the ornate light fixtures, but they were a nice touch. She opened the door on the far end and discovered the additional bathroom. Her bare toes wriggled in the soft, thick carpet. It seemed that her ideal room was something in ocean colors with a slightly Victorian feel to it. The dark wood dressers seemed slightly out of place, but Lucy figured she didn't care that much. Placing the folded clothes in an empty drawer, she turned back to the hall. "But how will I find it ag–"

The door now stood out from all the other white doors by turning the same color as the furniture. "Oh, good. Thank you." Lucy shut the door and rolled up her green long-sleeved shirt. "Could you point me back to the console room?" she asked. The lights obligingly lit up in the opposite direction.

* * *

><p>After a couple minutes of walking, Lucy was starting to have doubts. It hadn't taken that long to get to the wardrobe room (not counting the restarts; she should have just asked in the first place) and the bedrooms were only a hallway or two beyond the wardrobe. "Are you sure I'm going the right way?" she asked.<p>

The lights blinked impatiently.

"I was just asking…" Lucy said, walking a little quicker.

After two more twists and turns, the lights lit up a tall door. "That's not the console room," Lucy said. "The console room doesn't have a door." The lights blinked. "I _know _that's not the console room," Lucy said, turning to walk back the way she came.

All the lights shut off.

"Hey!" She yelled. "Stop! Fine, I'll go in!" _I'm yelling at a ship,_ she thought. _If anyone saw me, they'd send me off to live with Mama in the mental institution._ The lights came back on, but only around the door. "You're obstinate, you know that?" she said, turning the knob.

The lights blinked smugly.

Lucy shook her head and walked in. She looked up –and up and up and up. She had no idea how big this room was, but it was filled with books.

There were stairs leading up to second and third levels of books, ladders to reach tall shelves full of books, stacks of books in corners and on chairs…

"You're a cheeky ship," she mumbled. "Taking me against my will to the most marvelous place." She wandered among the shelves, smelling the old-book smell and reading the spines at eye level. Some of them were familiar –Dickens, G. K. Chesterton, Shakespeare; others were books she had never heard of before, like _The Many Works of the Bard Pofirimus from Zedacar Four _and _How to play the Banded, Bulbous Snarfblatt;_ some weren't even in any language she knew –or even any alphabet, for that matter.

She let her fingers brush the bindings as she came around the corner, and then she jumped and grabbed the bookcase for support.

* * *

><p>The Master jerked back so that he didn't collide with the blond woman. "What are you doing here?" the Master asked, startled.<p>

She stared at him, fishing for words. "The… the TARDIS –well, what are you doing here?" Lucy asked, switching from defensive to offensive. "I think the Doctor's looking for you."

"Which is why I'm here," The Master said. _Obviously. _"There are miles of this library." _And hopefully this wouldn't occur to him as a place I would be…_

"Miles?" Lucy asked, her eyes widening. "Wow." She looked up at the ceiling, far above her head, gazing in wonder.

He wondered when he had missed the fact that she loved books.

"What?" she asked, turning back.

"Nothing," The Master said.

"You were looking at me funny," Lucy said, tilting her head to the side. Her gray eyes narrowed slightly.

He gave her a contemptuous smile, as if to convey _why on Gallifrey would I ever look at you funny; you're not even worth my notice._

"Don't give me that," Lucy said, unaffected. "I know you. What's the matter?"

_Exactly,_ he thought. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "That's the matter," the Master said in a low voice.

"That's not an answer," Lucy said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why are you so stubborn?" the Master asked, irritated.

"Because I am," Lucy said. "About some things, like books, school, Roxanne…you."

"_That's_ what I mean," the Master said, his eyes flashing. "I don't know you, but you think you know me."

"I _do _know you. You told me all about yourself. I lived with you for two years. And you don't know _me_ as well because you messed with my head," Lucy said insistently.

"Is that why you tried to kill me?"

Lucy stared at him. "What? Which time?"

"When I came back. Is that why you did it?" the Master asked, bitterness seeping into his voice.

"Because I was angry?" Lucy asked, shocked. "No! Not at all. I –" She gathered her thoughts. "I don't blame you. I'm …glad you let me say yes. I'm just annoyed you didn't take it off when you could have." She frowned at him.

"Then why?" The Master snapped. "Because you tried to kill me, and then you saved me two days later. Why did you do that?" His throat closed.

Lucy stared at him in consternation. "You said… you said you missed them," she said lamely.

"Missed _what?_" he asked, tired of all the half-answers and questions.

"The drums," she said. "You're right; I do know you. I know that you hated the drums; they tortured you and they frightened you. They were a part of you, but I could never imagine that you could miss them –or want them back." Her voice trailed off into a whisper. "I couldn't let you become a man who loved the sound of the drums."

He stared at her in shock and wondered just when he had let his guard down enough for this woman to get under his skin. The most galling –and humbling –thing about her statement was that she was _right._ He didn't remember much coherently about being half-formed in that prison, but what little he did centered mostly around her and mad, jumbled-up thoughts.

_How did she ever get labeled 'not very bright'?_ He wondered to himself.

The silence was stretching on longer than was comfortable with. He had to say something, anything, to cut this tension, but his tongue felt like wax in his mouth. "So why did you do it?" he asked.

"Wha–"

"Why did you save me!" he yelled angrily.

That seemed to be the spark to set Lucy off. "Because I love you, you idiot!" she shouted back, placing both hands on her hips.

He was speechless.

"I didn't know it right off –it took a while to realize that I did and it wasn't just you manipulating me, and then those creatures had to take over my dreams and make me see that I did, and then you were dead, and then you were alive but going to leave me,_ again_, and I wasn't going to lose you another time, so I said 'no.'" She ended her tirade in a shaky voice, looking at him uncertainly.

"You love me," he repeated. "That's it?"

"Isn't that enough of a reason?" Lucy asked with a perplexed look on her face.

The muscles in the side on his mouth pulled relentlessly into a half smile. "Come here," he said, pulling her into his arms, and she came willingly. She kissed him first –he hadn't expected that –but he kissed back with enough ardor that she had to pull back after a while to breathe.

"Are we still married?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Do you want to be?" the Master asked, pulling her closer still.

"Yes, I think so –very much," Lucy said, smiling widely up at him as her gray eyes sparkled.

"Good," he said, as his eyes glowed with pleasure.

"I think we're going to get along splendidly," Lucy said, grinning.

"And why's that?" he asked, rubbing her nose with his.

"Because you're going to think you're so wonderful, and then I'll come along and say no to everything you say," she said, grinning mischievously.

"Everything?" he murmured as he kissed her neck.

"Well, maybe not everything…" Lucy mumbled, kissing him back.

The TARDIS obligingly moved Lucy's new room across the hall from the library for the night.


	10. So I stayed in the darkness with you

**AN: that awkward moment when you forget to post and it's the last chapter... well. hopefully y'all aren't too mad. The wait makes it better right?  
>I know, i know -false. go ahead and read.<br>**

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><p><strong>"<strong>**Then I heard your heart beating;  
>you were in the darkness too.<br>So I stayed in the darkness with you"**

Lucy opened one eye and realized that when she had thought up her room, she had neglected to put a clock in it. "Meh," she said. The arm around her waist was comforting. She rolled over to get a good look at its owner.

"Morning," she mumbled, smiling sleepily. "I think."

"It's about dawn," the Master told her.

Lucy propped her head up on her arm, gazing at him. "You stayed?" So often before she had woken up alone –_Time Lords have different circadian rhythms, Lucy, _he would tell her –he didn't need the sleep like she did. But this was nice.

"Uh huh," he said.

She kissed him lightly on the lips, enjoying the strange sensation his stubble had on her face. "Good." It wasn't often she got to snuggle with her husband –the first time in two years, actually –and she was taking advantage of it.

Lucy thought she might have just been about to drift off to sleep again, but the Master began talking in a low murmur. "I can still hear the drums," he said. "They're not loud, or insistent, just…there. I suppose she must have fixed that, too."

"Who?" Lucy asked sleepily.

"In the golden light, there was a woman. She said, 'I bring life.' She healed me and softened the drums…"

"I s'ppose we'll have to find her some day 'n thank her," Lucy mumbled, snuggling against his chest.

"You told me you could hear them," the Master whispered.

"Hear what?" Lucy asked, opening one eye.

"The drums. And that's why I never took the cerebral shift off you," he said. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to hear them anymore."

Lucy opened her other eye. "Oh, you idiot," she said, laughing. "I still can." She placed a hand on his chest. "I can hear your heartbeat. And I'm guessing you can too."

He gave her such a peculiar look that she laughed. "No, really," she said, tapping out the rhythm: one two three _four,_ tri-pa-let _one._ "See?"

She was unprepared for the long kiss he gave her, but she managed to overcome her surprise and regain her ground in the long run.

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><p>Lucy was quickly realizing that if she looked away for one second, things she needed would appear.<p>

Like a toothbrush.

She mumbled a 'thank you' out of the side of her mouth as she brushed her teeth. It never hurt to be polite. The Master, of course, scoffed that she would ever do such a thing to a _ship._ Lucy figured it had nothing to do with how sentient the TARDIS was; the Master just didn't feel like he should have to be polite to it. To anything, really.

That reminded her of something she wanted to ask him.

Spitting the toothpaste out and washing it down the sink, she asked over her shoulder, "Were you born with the name 'Master'?" Surely not. It was a pretty strange thing to name a child.

He was staring at the wardrobe in frustration. Apparently, the TARDIS had a function that would send down clothes from the wardrobe room to yours if you thought of the right thing. If you wanted a different selection, you just had to shut the doors and open them again.

It had just sent down a bunch of clown costumes.

The Master muttered something about 'old junk flying machine'.

Lucy rather suspected the TARDIS was being cranky because she didn't like him. "Did you hear me?" she asked.

"Yes, and –no."

Correctly interpreting this as 'yes, he had heard her and no, he wasn't born with that name', Lucy asked, "So what's your name?"

The Master looked up from the wardrobe. "Why do you ask?"

Lucy leaned against the doorframe. "Well, as your wife, I'm _not _going to call you 'The Master' all the time."

"Why not?" he demanded.

She narrowed her eyes.

He rolled his and opened the wardrobe door again. Frilly Elizabethan pantaloons and stiff collars sprang out, and he cursed.

"If you tell me, I'll work the wardrobe for you," Lucy offered.

"You know my name," he said, still not paying complete attention to her.

"I do?"

"When we got married, I told you," he said.

"Oh, _that,_" Lucy said, her eyes widening. It had been a completely beautiful long string of sounds and she wasn't even going to try to recreate it. "I can't actually say that," she pointed out, "though I_ do_ like it."

He smirked, still staring at the wardrobe.

"But I _know_ people didn't call you that. Didn't you have a nickname or something?"

He looked at her. "…Are you sure you can make this wardrobe work?"

"Positive," Lucy assured him.

He looked her up and down and apparently decided that it was worth it. "Koschei."

"Koschei?" Lucy repeated, getting the pronunciation right.

The Master looked at her, surprised.

Lucy nodded, considering it. "It's nice. I like it."

"Now will you get this blasted ship to cooperate?" the Master demanded.

_Okay, girl, work with me, _Lucy thought._ Casual clothes in dark colors, please._ Lucy opened the doors.

Blue and black jeans and pants, as well as long-sleeved shirts in black, red, and white hung neatly in the wardrobe. She stood back with a smile. "You're welcome, Koschei."

She nearly missed the glint of amusement in the Master's eyes, but it was there.

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><p>Lucy changed her mind. The TARDIS was getting back at the Master for turning her into a paradox machine. That must be it. Lucy had to ask three times where the kitchen was before the time ship made irritable grinding noises and lit the way.<p>

"Good morning!" the Doctor chirped from his place at the large round kitchen table. "Make yourselves at home."

The Master glared at him. "Your bloody ship hates me!"

Lucy hid her smirk as she opened the refrigerator doors.

"And whose fault is that?" the Doctor said in a good-natured tone.

Before the Master could retort, Lucy kicked him in the leg. "Behave," she said, smiling, as she carried the milk carton to the table. "Or you won't be getting any coffee."

"Oh, good job Lucy! Knew it was a good idea to have you on board!" the Doctor said.

The Master and the Doctor settled into bickering back and forth between themselves about TARDISes, time travel, and food in general. Lucy tuned them out as she familiarized herself with the TARDIS kitchen, going through the motions of making coffee.

"Doctor," Lucy asked at a lull in the argument, "Do you actually have a coffee maker, or do I have to do it by hand?"

The Doctor looked perplexed and ran a hand through his spiky hair. "Um… it would be in a cabinet. Somewhere."

"Are the cabinets bigger on the inside, too?" Lucy asked idly, rummaging through them.

"Not that I know of," the Doctor said cheerfully, "but it would help to explain why I can never find anything."

Lucy thought she found it –it was wedged to the back behind a mixer. She moved the mixer out of the way, and a book fell out of the cabinet, onto the floor. Turning it over, Lucy saw that it was a copy of _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ by C. S. Lewis.

"What is a book doing in your kitchen cabinet, Doctor?" Lucy asked, showing him the cover.

"Oh! I went back to the 1950's and got one of the first edition copies," the Doctor said, smiling at the memory. "It's autographed. Wonderful man, Jack –he liked to be called Jack," the Doctor added. "Not Clive Staples. Right after that we went to the planet Plov and got some wonderful recipes. I suppose it got left there on accident," he mused.

"On Plov?" Lucy asked.

"No, in the cabinet," the Doctor said, frowning. "Why would I leave it on Plov?"

"It's the sort of thing you would do," the Master said derisively. That seemed to set them off again.

Lucy flipped through the pages –yes, indeed there was a signature in it. She remembered loving these books when she was young. She encountered what she thought was a bookmark in the middle of the book, and pulled it out, thinking that if it was thick, it would hurt the binding.

It wasn't a bookmark.

It was a strip of photos from a photo booth. The man smiling avidly at the camera was the Doctor, but the woman –

The woman.

"Doctor?" Lucy demanded. The two Time Lords stopped their arguing to stare at her. She turned to them with wide gray eyes and held up the strip of photos. "How do you know Rose Tyler?"

**The story will be continued in Part II of A Way through the Worlds.**

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><p><strong>(Which probably won't be posted for about 2 weeks -still editing. It's going to be a crossover! With Fringe! but if you don't watch Fringe I've done my best to keep it very understandable. So alert me and keep an eye out for it! ;)<br>**


	11. Author's note!

After long last, (so sorry for the wait) I am posting the sequel to The Freedom to Refuse!

It does not directly follow the first story, however, but the first and second story will come together in the third.

So please read it!

It's called **A Place to Belong** and should show up on my page very soon.

Enjoy! :)


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